


The Last Baratheon at Storm’s End

by tm_writes



Series: The Last Baratheon [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Historian Stannis, History student Sansa, Modern AU, Stern Stannis, sweet and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 84,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tm_writes/pseuds/tm_writes
Summary: Sansa Stark is a PhD student in History that is looking to write her thesis on the last Storm Queen, Argella Durrandon. Unfortunately, or fortunately for her, the only source material is located at Storm's End, the massive family castle of House Baratheon, where the reclusive Stannis Baratheon resides.What happens when Stannis and Sansa both take a chance and open themselves up to each other? Sansa has six months to do her research, but she just might find something more than just research for her PhD in the Stormlands.





	1. Arrival

Sansa Stark was a bundle of emotion as she approached the massive Castle that loomed in the distance. It was both intimidating and impressive, and Sansa could feel her nerves at war in her stomach and in her heart. The air was cold and gloomy, which suited the early fall weather. It seemed the further she had driven towards the coast, the darker the storm clouds had gotten.

Sansa had berated herself at that thought; it was called Storm's End, dummy. Of course, they had storms.

This entire region was known for its wild weather, unlike Winterfell, where you hardly ever got more than a big dump of snow from time to time.

Autumn was Sansa's favourite time of year. She loved everything about it; the smells, the colours, the warm, cozy clothes and the spicy chai tea she would make for herself. Fall meant back to school, and new books and learning. Her siblings never let her live it down when she got excited each August for the upcoming school year.

Sansa had always loved being a student and eagerly looked forward to September each year when school was back in session. Fall also meant Thanksgiving, and pie and bonfires and Halloween; all things that Sansa absolutely loved.

She even loved the gloomy weather; it made her feel less guilty for staying inside and curling up with a good book, or on occasion sitting down to watch a movie. Sansa preferred historical romances, but she'd watch a modern one if there were no other options.

Even though the weather had turned blustery, Sansa couldn't help but admire the beauty as she drove towards the ancient Castle that had belonged to the Baratheon family for generations. The forests surrounding the area had exploded into a riot of colour, and she hummed happily to the soft radio station playing in her little Mini Cooper car.

Occasionally she would burst out of the dense forest and be surrounded by miles of endless fields, and she grinned as she saw the cows grazing or the horses running free in the fields. It was very pretty county, the Stormlands if a bit wild and untamed.

It made Sansa think that at any moment she might see a knight ride over a hill, his armour worn and dented, a stern expression on his face. He'd be confident, knowing that his land was good and that it could support his people. Sansa often let herself get caught up in these little fantasies; it was half the reason she had pursued a history degree and had focused on the era from when the Targaryen's invaded Westeros. Sansa loved everything about the Middle Ages.

She had taken a chance when she had accepted Stannis Baratheon's invitation to spend six months at Storm's End researching her doctoral thesis.

It had come out of nowhere really, just a conversation with her father last spring after she had graduated with top marks from Vale University with her Master's degree in History. Everyone had assumed Sansa would either stay in the Vale or move on to an even more prestigious university such as the one in King's Landing. But Sansa had her heart set on studying Queen Argella Durrandon of the Storm Lands. She was the last Queen of the region, and very little had been written about her. She was the perfect subject for an aspiring professor to sink her teeth into; if Sansa could learn more about her.

When Sansa had inquired, she had learned that all the material that might have anything on her was at the Castle where she once reigned.

That had depressed her for a time. It was well known that Storms End was not a place that was open to visitors and that Stannis Baratheon was not a man that would let just anyone come and look through his family library. It was sheer, dumb luck that she had secured this invitation, and Sansa had her father to thank.

Ned Stark had become close with his best friend's brother, Stannis after Robert had passed away suddenly a few years ago of a massive heart attack. Both men had come to realize how much they had in common, and when Sansa had gone home to Winterfell, last May, she was lamenting the lack of resources available to work on her doctorate.

When her Dad, whom she was especially close to, asked her what she needed, she had excitedly brought out all she had found out so far. Ned Stark loved History almost as much as Sansa did, and the two of them eagerly poured over her notes.

At the end of the afternoon, when Sansa was putting together a quick dinner for her, her Dad and her youngest brother Rickon, Ned had asked what she would do if she were able to get her hands on the books she was convinced was at Storm's End? She'd even gone so far as to contact a professor there, a Dr. Brienne Tarth, who had agreed to oversee Sansa's studies if she could get access to the source material.

"Do not tease me like that," she said and narrowed her pretty blue eyes at her father.

Ned sighed wistfully as he looked at his daughter.

At twenty-five, Sansa was a beautiful woman and the light of his life. Each time he gazed upon her, he couldn't help but notice how much she looked like her mother.

It had been seven years since Catelyn had passed away due to cancer, and Ned missed her each and every day. Ned knew that Cat's death had been the main reason Sansa had stayed close to home and had gone to White Harbor University in the North to do her bachelor's degree, but he'd put his foot down when it had come to her Master's.

She was brilliant and she would go to only the best school to pursue her studies. That happened to be Vale University, and though there had been some issues during her time there, all the Starks had come and cheered proudly when Sansa accepted her Master's degree this spring. And now his baby wanted to become a doctor. A Ph.D. in History and Ned couldn't be prouder.

While he wished she wanted to study in the North, he knew she had her heart set on going South. Thank gods it wasn't Kings Landing was all he could think. That city was rotten and full of people Ned disliked.

"I'm friends with Stannis," he told Sansa, and her eyes widened.

"Seriously?" She almost squealed in delight.

Before she could say anything else, Ned held up a hand.

"Let me make a phone call and see what he might say. I know he is a man that guards his privacy jealously, and he very rarely has visitors."

Sansa nodded and threw her arms around her father. It had been a difficult few years, losing his wife and then having Robert, his best friend, die so suddenly.

Sansa was pleased that her Dad had made friends with Stannis.

Even though the Baratheons and the Starks were lifelong family friends, Sansa only knew Stannis by reputation and had never met him in person.

He was only a few years younger than her father, and he was a well-known and well-respected author of both political and historical novels, the kind that a layperson might want to read. Sansa had read all of his books, and though he did a great job of making complex subjects seem accessible to the masses.

Her family would often bug her when she would bring one of his books along for "light reading." Arya's concept of light reading was the latest graphic novel.

A week after their initial conversation, her Dad had confirmed that Stannis had agreed that Sansa could come and stay at Storm's End for six months to do her research. Sansa happily clapped her hands and then frowned.

"Stay?" She squeaked. She hadn't been planning on staying at Storm's End, only going there to go through the vast library she was sure the Castle had.

Her Dad nodded.

"Stannis insisted it was the only logical solution. The nearest town is over an hour away, and even then, it is more a village. There would be nowhere for you to stay, and the University itself is in Summerhall, which is over four hours away."

Sansa frowned.

"I know where the University is. I just hadn't thought I'd have to stay at the Castle," she muttered, and her Dad laughed.

"What's the problem? I thought you'd be chomping at the bit to stay in a Castle from the past. Think of the History! Think of the ghosts," Ned said and made a spooky sound.

Sansa rolled her eyes at his antics. It was true she would be able to get loads more work done if she was on site, but Sansa hated to be a bother.

"I'm not intruding?" She asked quietly, and Ned's face turned serious.

"No, sweetie, he offered," Ned told her.

He suspected it had something to do with Stannis Baratheon's major-domo, Cressen and his man Davos that looked after the grounds that Stannis had been browbeaten into extending the invitation to Sansa. Still, if there was one man who Ned trusted to look out for his daughter, it was Stannis Baratheon.

"Ok," she said and squared her shoulders, and then grinned. "Oh, my gods," she said happily, "I have my Ph.D. topic!"

She kissed her Dad on the cheek and then streaked out of the room to send a quick email to Dr. Tarth to see if she was still interested in overseeing her project.

Over the next few months, everything came together, until here she was, zooming down the road towards Storm's End. Sansa had packed a bunch of things and sent them ahead; books and clothes and research. Her little car could barely fit anything in it, and she knew there were hardly any amenities nearby. She'd been in contact with this Davos person, and he reassured her they could get her whatever she needed; she just had to give him a bit of time.

And now here she was, moments away from seeing the Castle up close for the first time.

Sansa rounded the last corner, and her jaw dropped at the sheer size and scope of the building in front of her.

_How could one man live there?_ She thought to herself.

Perhaps hundreds of years ago, when it took a veritable army to run such a place, as well as the commoners who needed shelter and protection. But in this day and age? It was practically unheard of.

Sansa knew of a few other magnificent Castles that had survived to modern times.

The Lannister family had one out in the West, called Casterly Rock. Sansa knew that Tywin Lannister had before his death and been devoted to maintaining it.

There was another castle, Highgarden, in the Reach that the Tyrell family had dumped millions of dollars into to maintain it. But even then, those two Castles had been declared heritage buildings and portions were open to the public. They were living museums to the past that required funding from tourists and the state to keep them running.

That was not the case for Storm's End. It was one hundred percent a private dwelling, the largest one in Westeros if what Sansa had googled on it was to be believed, and it had been in the hands of Baratheon's for hundreds of years. Sansa was almost giddy of the thought of living inside such a historical place and slowly drove up to the massive outer wall.

She saw a friendly figure wave her down, and he appeared to be in his late fifties. This must be Davos, Sansa thought. Sure enough, within moments, he had her roll down her window, and he'd introduced himself.

"Glad you made it, lass," he said, and she smiled at his accent. It was adorable.

"Your directions were fantastic," she said, grinning, and he smiled back at her. He pointed out a small gate and told her to drive through and up to the main entrance where Cressen was waiting for her. He would show her to her rooms. She nodded again and tried not to let her jaw drop too low at the sheer magnitude of the place in front of her.

When she pulled inside the first outer perimeter wall, Sansa realized she was now inside what would have been considered the central yard of the Castle. She saw an older man waiting for her on the steps, by a large oak door, and pulled the car slowly up to him. He stood at the base of a massive round tower, and Sansa realized that this is what she had seen on the drive in.

The Castle was situated right on the sea, at Durran's point in Shipwrecker's Bay, and it looked as if it had been built into the stone seawall itself. It was even more impressive up close.

When she exited her car, she grabbed her purse, her laptop and her small overnight bag. Everything else had been shipped and was here already.

"Welcome to Storm's End, Miss Stark," Cressen said warmly, and Sansa smiled at him and thanked him. He led her into the central tower, explaining how the Castle was laid out.

"The main tower is so large, that in medieval times, everything was contained within this tower," he said, and Sansa could only nod. She was overwhelmed, exhausted and intimidated all at once. She followed Cressen through a series of winding passageways until he opened the door to a suite of rooms for Sansa.

"Oh," she said, delighted that she had a window. It was so unusual to be in a round building, although she hadn't honestly noticed until she was shown to her rooms.

"The seaward side of the Castle has no windows," Cressen said and winked at her. She smiled at him, grateful that he had given her one that faced out to the lands that overlooked the vast estate. Darkness had fallen in the time that Sansa and Cressen had arrived at her rooms, and he patted her arm.

"I can see you are tired, child," he told her kindly. "I'll send some supper and let you settle in. There's a small map so that you won't get lost. Breakfast tomorrow at eight a.m. sharp in the main hall."

Sansa nodded again and thanked him before closing the door and turning to look at her new home for the next six months. She quickly realized that it wasn't a simple bedroom she had been given, but a small living space, that had its own kitchen. It was like an apartment, she realized, and she was delighted.

She even had her own apartment sized washer and dryer which she found delightfully convenient. She didn't want to be any more of a bother than possible.

Her luggage had been placed neatly in the main living area, and she ran her hands over the beautiful antique desk and matching chairs. Somehow, modern conveniences had been seamlessly interwoven with what Sansa swore were authentic furniture from what she was sure was medieval times. On the desk, she saw three books that had been left there and saw they were all on Argella.

Sansa's heart soared. She briefly wondered who had placed them there for her.

When she walked into the bedroom, her jaw dropped. The room itself was huge and would have had to have been to accommodate the massive four-poster bed that took up half the space. One wall was lined with books, and the window showed yet another, slightly different view of the grounds. She opened the window, and though the night was cold and stormy, she could smell the sea air.

Sansa ran her hand over the stonework of the slightly curved walls; the central tower was so large you could hardly see the curve unless you were looking. She could imagine getting lost in a bed that size, and she wandered happily into the attached bathroom, and squealed with delight at the clawfoot tub, along with the shower and huge vanity.

She quickly went back to the main room and set her laptop up and connected to the internet; Davos had sent her all that information ahead of time and composed a quick email to her Dad to let him know she'd arrived safely and everything was wonderful.

A short while later, a knock on the door alerted Sansa to her dinner being delivered. She opened it up to a kindly woman who said her name was Marya and she was Davos's wife. She set a plate down and waved a hand, telling Sansa to settle in and welcoming her to Storm's End. Delighted Sansa scarfed down her soup and sandwich and then happily soaked in the tub, before unpacking.

Later, when she had settled, she plugged her phone in, turned on her alarm, and snuggled into the warm and soft bed that was much too large for her, but she loved, nonetheless.

So far, her first night at Storm's End was perfect, and she couldn't wait to get started tomorrow on her research and perhaps even thank Mr. Baratheon for welcoming her into his fantastic home.

As she lay in her bed, she could imagine Argella on these very grounds, hundreds of years ago, and Sansa knew this was the best decision she had made in a very long time.


	2. The First Day

For a brief moment, when Sansa woke up, she had no idea where she was. Then she stretched in the huge and very comfortable bed where she had slept the entire night through and looked around the room. A huge smile broke out across her face. She was at Storm's End, and she was going to finally get her hands on some information and books about Argella Durrandon.

Smiling softly to herself, she padded out to the small kitchen and opened the cabinets to see that they, along with the fridge, had been well-stocked for her stay. She remembered what Cressen had said, that breakfast was served in the main hall at eight a.m., but Sansa needed a hit of caffeine now and grinned when she saw the coffee grounds and maker waiting for her on the counter.

Humming softly while the brew perked, Sansa wandered around her new home for the next few months. It was such a lovely space, and in the soft grey morning light, Sansa could see the comfortable looking chair that had a lamp and a table set beside it and could imagine hours of curling up there and doing her research.

Her siblings bugged her that she spent her whole life reading, but she didn't mind. Sansa felt at home in a book, even a dull one. Each time she opened the cover, it was like a new world awaited her.

She stood by the window and saw a lone figure walking through the fields, and wondered briefly if that might be Stannis Baratheon, but then her phone buzzed, and she turned away. It was her Dad telling her he was glad she arrived safely and to have fun. She rolled her eyes at him but sent him back a quick text.

After a quick shower, Sansa emptied her suitcases. She was living here now, and she would not live with wrinkled clothes and the feeling of a nomad. It was one of the main reasons Sansa had stuck with History and not Archaeology; as much as the past fascinated her, Sansa was not a woman that enjoyed camping, or living in a tent, or out of a backpack. And don't even get her started on the dirt. She'd spent one summer, early in her bachelor's degree helping on a dig in Queenscrown and she'd lasted two weeks before the bugs, dirt and endless rain drove her away. She'd take a dusty old library over a dig site any day of the week.

It took the best part of an hour to unpack, but finally, Sansa looked around the small apartment and smiled happily. It looked like hers. She had sent some things ahead that were very dear to her, and she touched the pictures of her family that now adorned the desk and the mantle above the small gas fireplace.

She wondered if she might find some wildflowers to bring back to her room if she went on a walk around the grounds today.

When she went to the closet, she pondered what to wear. She knew immediately that she wanted to make the correct impression with Mr. Baratheon. She did not want him to think she wasn't taking her studies or this opportunity seriously.

While Sansa loved nothing more than the curl up in warm pyjamas when she was in her private space, this first meeting with the owner of Storm's End and her appearance counted and needed to be appropriate.

Sansa heard a discrete knock on the door just as she was winding her long red hair into a neat chignon. She had gone with black slacks, low heels and a blue button-down shirt that fit her perfectly. She looked like the young academic she was. She opened the door to see Cressen and his eyes lighted when he spotted her.

"Ms. Stark," he said, smiling. "I take it your night was pleasant?"

She nodded and gushed at the accommodations, and she thought he might have blushed. Then he offered her his arm and explained that the Castle was a bit hard to find your way around until she had spent some time just wandering about. Sansa was thrilled at that thought.

When they finally reached the main hall, Cressen lowered his voice.

"Normally, we eat in the kitchen and are not this formal, my dear, but our Stannis didn't want you to think us nothing more than savages you see," he explained to her. Before Sansa could protest, he patted her arm.

"It's of no concern, my dear, I'm sure in time, Stannis will come to see the folly in his ways. You don't strike me as one that needs to stand on ceremony for each meal."

Sansa laughed and told him she did not. And she wasn't here to be a bother. He waved a hand and told her how much they were all excited she was here. Stannis included. Sansa doubted that, but she appreciated Cressen trying to make her feel welcome.

When they finally entered the dining hall, Sansa gasped at how large it was. The sheer volume of the space dwarfed even the massive table that was situated within the middle of the room.

For a moment, Sansa swore she could see the Lord of the Storm's End sitting at the head of the table, as his lady wife was by his side and his minor lords and retainers seated around his table. Tapestries hung on the walls and suits of armour lined the hall. Sansa swore they were authentic and almost itched to run her fingers over them.

In addition to the tapestries that hung on the walls, Sansa saw a massive fireplace at one end of the Great Hall, and an enormous shield with the Baratheon family crest hanging over it. The room had discreet modern lighting throughout, but it wasn't hard to imagine men and women gathered in the hall for a massive feast after a battle or to commemorate some special occasion.

To Sansa's utter delight, a fire roared in the great fireplace, and she loved the warmth that it added to the stone hall. Even though it was early September and summers were hot in The Stormlands, this year it appeared fall had come early, and Sansa couldn't be happier.

A small discreet cough drew her attention to a stern-looking man that was standing off to one side. She blushed furiously as she had been caught gawking at her impressive surroundings and had missed him. She turned her attention to him.

"Ms. Stark," the man said and walked towards them. Sansa blushed a bit, but then recovered and straightened her shoulders.

"Mr. Baratheon," she said and held out her hand, which he shook, and Sansa felt a small thrill at the contact. His hand was warm and firm and had a hint of roughness that Sansa would not have generally associated with a man who wrote best-selling non-fiction history books for a living.

"I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity," she said, and he nodded.

His facial expression had not changed, and Sansa wondered what might make this serious man smile.

She took a moment more to observe him; she knew he was forty-seven, a couple of years younger than her father. He had never married and had no children. Stannis Baratheon had thinning salt and pepper hair and a receding hairline, but it took nothing away from his classic good looks. He was a tall, thin man, but Sansa could see the lean muscles that made up his frame.

Sansa was happy that she had decided on her formal business clothing as he matched hers; dark grey slacks, a dark blue button-down and a warm looking sweater. She would have been mortified had she turned up in old jeans, a flannel shirt and her Uggs.

He waved a slight hand and gave her a piercing look.

"Your father has been a good friend to me during a difficult time before and after Robert's death. It was the least I could do."

Sansa nodded. It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement that he wanted her here, but it was perhaps more than she had been expecting given his reputation.

He gestured to a seat at the end of the table beside him, and moments later, Davos and Mayra entered as well, laden with plates of eggs, bacon, sausages, toast and potatoes. Sansa's eyes widened as she took in all the food, and she protested lightly when she sat down.

"This is truly unnecessary," she said softly while thanking Mayra for preparing such a feast.

"Tomorrow we'll eat in the kitchen," the woman said and sent a look towards Stannis, who gave her a curt nod. Sansa tried to contain the small smile that wanted to break through at seeing the kindly older woman chastise him, but held it back, somehow knowing he wouldn't like that.

Conversation over breakfast was managed by Davos, Mayra and Cressen, who all asked Sansa question after question about her family and the North.

Finally, Stannis sighed and glanced at his watch.

"Ms. Stark, it is my understanding that you are seeking information on one of my ancestors, a woman by the name of Argella Durrandon," Stannis stated, and Sansa nodded.

"I am," she said. She shrugged and met his gaze. "From what I can tell, Storms End may be the only place that still has any first-hand accounts from that time or any literature on her at all."

Stannis nodded. He had gone so far as to get a master's degree in both History and economics, and he knew the rigours of academia, especially when pursuing a doctoral thesis. One had to find a subject that had not previously be written on, and the Last Storm Queen was a good topic. Stannis knew there was no other source material on her in all of Westeros.

"I have given this some thought, and I believe there are several ways Storm's End may be able to help. First, there are two main libraries of which anything you wish to read is available to you. Additionally, there are hundreds of years of artifacts and antiques that you may wish to look through. I will leave you in the capable hands of Cressen and Davos for that task. Finally, and if you allow me this one single personal observation, in my experience, I have found that it helps immensely to get to know the place that you are writing about. To that end, please feel free to explore the Castle and the grounds. I only ask that my private wing is respected and remains off-limits, and that you tell someone where you are going. There are still very real dangers in the Castle, and it is not safe to explore on your own," Stannis finished speaking and held her gaze.

Sansa nodded, and let out a soft thank you.

"And I promise I will let Cressen or Davos know where I want to explore."

Stannis jerked his head once at that and left the room, leaving the four of them behind.

"Positively glowing, our Stannis," Cressen smiled and let out a short laugh. Davos smiled and asked if Sansa wanted to tour the grounds after breakfast, and she eagerly agreed.

When they rose to leave the dining hall, Mayra asked if she minded eating in the kitchen, and Sansa shook her head and laughed.

"Follow me then dear, before these men scoop you up," Mayra said, and Sansa grabbed some platters of food and followed her into the huge kitchen. It was a warm space that had been thoroughly modernized, and Sansa could see the large table that could comfortably seat eight.

"Here's where we normally eat," Marya said without ceremony. "Will this be sufficient for you?" She asked.

"More than sufficient," Sansa said and then asked if there was anything she could do to help. Mayra waved a hand but was secretly pleased that the girl was willing to help. Not too many with her pedigree were willing to do so. It spoke to her true nature and good breeding in Mayra's opinion. Davos followed along as well and asked if she had some warmer and hardier clothes with her.

"The grounds are wet and bit boggy in places," he said and indicated his warm woollen sweater and sturdy pants. Sansa nodded and said she'd change.

"We'll be on an ATV to tour the grounds," he told her, and she said that was fine, as they had them at Winterfell. Then she frowned.

"I thought I saw horses and stables?" She asked the question, and Davos grinned ruefully.

"Not for me, Lass, but perhaps Stannis can be talked into taking you for a ride one day," Davos told her. The horses were his, and neither Davos nor Cressen rode any longer.

"Do you ride?" Davos asked her and Sansa nodded, her whole face lighting up.

"Oh yes, whenever I have a chance," she gushed, and Davos hid his glee. He only needed to get Stannis on the back of a horse, and he knew the man could woo this lovely young woman. He'd waited long enough for the perfect one to come along, and both Cressen and Davos agreed, Sansa Stark was perfect for Stannis Baratheon.

She thought about exploring the land around Storm's End the way it had been meant to be seen and was determined to get into Stannis Baratheon's good graces so that he might take her.

Then Sansa darted off to change, still eager to see the grounds with Davos. Mayra said that after lunch, Cressen would show her the rest of the Castle, and Sansa was all smiles. This was the best day of her life, and even if Stannis Baratheon seemed a bit grumpy, Sansa had never met anyone she couldn't win over. He just needed time to see how much she already loved his family's home, and she was sure she'd have him eating out of her hand in no time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stannis Baratheon, for the life of him, could not imagine what he had been thinking when he'd agreed to allow Sansa Stark to come and live at Storm's End.

He knew that it had been a moment of temporary weakness and that Cressen and Davos had pressured him to extend the invitation to Ned's daughter.

Still, now she was here, and his emotions were a riot in his heart and head.

Stannis was a man that prided himself on his cold logic, his pragmatism and his stern countenance. He had never married, preferring to dedicate himself to his studies, his career and his family's impressive home.

When his parents and his youngest brother, Renly, had died suddenly and tragically when Stannis had been only nineteen, in a sailing accident in Shipwrecker's Bay, everyone assumed that Robert and Stannis would be forced to sell their family's Castle.

Everyone knew that it was Steffen's head for numbers that kept the Baratheon family in its fortunes, and anyone who met Robert knew the man pissed away more money than he ever made. But Stannis had stepped in and learned how to run both his father's business while at the same time pursuing his passion for History.

Robert had scoffed and told him it was impossible to do both. Stannis, stubborn and with pride stung, dug in and proved him wrong.

By anyone's standards, Stannis Baratheon's professional career was an unparalleled success. He had sold his first non-fiction book at twenty-four and had published additional books every two years, earning him lucrative royalties from the sales and respect in both the academic and publishing world. He continued to keep a keen interest in the Baratheon family business, and though he was technically held the title of President and CAO, he had very good people in place that he trusted to keep the bank accounts healthy. It was how he was able to maintain the family seat of Storm's End without relying on the state for funds or having strangers traipse through his house.

Nothing gave Stannis more nightmares than thinking about the Castle become a public space. It was his home, and the thought of the masses clomping through it sent a shiver down his spine.

There had been a time a few years ago when it might have all be lost, mostly due to Robert's stupidity and Cersei Lannister's manipulations.

Her father had just died, and unknown to everyone, the Lannister family fortunes had suffered in recent years and Tywin had passed away before he could restore them. Cersei had been pressuring Robert to allow her odious first-born son, Joffrey, access to Baratheon Holdings Inc. Stannis had put his foot firmly down. The boy was a vicious and egotistical little prick and would ruin any business that he touched.

Robert had been about to sign the paperwork, giving Joffrey a significant portion of his shares in the company, despite Stannis's protests, when they had been in an awful car wreck.

While Robert wasn't severely injured, Joffrey was, and when they went to take blood from Robert and give it to Joffrey, it was discovered that their blood types did not match. Outraged, the whole sordid story had come out that all three of Robert's children biologically were not his, and thankfully, while Joff recovered from his injuries, he would never lay a hand on the Baratheon family business. Or Storm's End.

While Stannis had a vibrant and successful professional life, his personal life had suffered. He'd grown up in the shadow of his overbearing older brother and losing his parents at a young age hadn't helped his confidence.

He was a naturally reserved child, and until he trusted someone, he held himself back from opening up to people. The years of work he poured into his writings and running the family business left him with no time to pursue a personal life.

He had dated a few women in his adult life, but his longest relationship was four months, and the woman was a lawyer in Summerhall. They barely saw one another, and Stannis had felt only relief when it ended.

It wasn't like the opportunity didn't present itself; especially, it seemed when he was doing a media tour for one of his new books. Women there almost threw themselves at him.

But those encounters always felt forced and false, and both Stannis and whatever woman approached him knew that they were drawn either to his temporary popularity or his wealth.

He'd indulged in two one-night stands, but always felt dirty and ashamed by his lack of control afterwards, and it had been a few years since he had last been with a woman. He'd immediately had himself tested, even though he'd used protection, and was happier to be by himself than risk catching something from some loose woman he was using to scratch an itch.

In truth, it did almost nothing for him to engage in meaningless sex, and so he simply avoided it altogether.

Stannis had all but given up on the idea of meeting the type of woman who might become a wife to him and a mother to his children.

Robert used to tease him and say that he was a robot and needed no human interaction, but Stannis knew that to be false.

He, more than Robert, longed for someone to share his life with, but he would not settle. At forty-seven, he had long given up the idea that there was anyone suitable for him; he was too stern, too hard and too much work for most women. He had never met anyone that saw that he was worth the effort.

And then he had stood in the grand dining hall of Storm's End and watched as Sansa Stark had simply stolen his breath away.

She was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, and he saw the affection shining in Cressen's eyes for her. His old companion had fairly gushed about how well-mannered and polite she was. Stannis had no idea what to expect when Ned Stark had asked for Sansa to come and look through his library. In his limited exposure to those that were a generation younger than him had seemed either bitter, flightily or shallow.

Sansa Stark was none of those things.

_Thank gods,_ Stannis thought.

Sansa held herself with a grace few women her age seemed to possess, and her pure delight in his hall almost made Stannis smile. He wanted to take her by the hand and spend the whole day showing her the wonders of Storms End, but he held himself back.

She was one of his only friend's daughter, and she was twenty-two years younger than him. He had no business even thinking about her in that context and he would not do anything to make her uncomfortable. Anything he might feel for her; he would ruthlessly push down.

She was here to do research for her PhD; not fend off some lecherous old man that had become instantly enamored with her.

He'd observed her through breakfast, noting how she smiled and laughed with his family, quickly answering questions they lobbed her way. When he'd given her access to the Castle her face lit as if he'd given her something akin to a diamond necklace, and he knew at that moment he was lost. He'd never met anyone who loved History as much as him, and it seemed the stunning woman at his massive dining table was as caught up in the past as he often found himself.

When she thanked him, it was all he could do to not break his own promise to himself and show her everything in the Castle that he loved. He thought for a moment that she might find the things that he liked about Storm's End interesting as well.

Robert had teased him relentlessly, calling him _In the Past Stan_ half his life because Stannis could get lost in the secret passageways that littered the Castle. He hated the nickname, and he hated to be called Stan. That was not his name.

He briefly wondered if she had found the books he had left her. The moment Ned had called, Stannis knew the three that she should start with.

He forced himself to leave her behind in the dining hall, hearing Mayra invite her into the kitchen and knew that an already impossible task, ignoring her, had just become even harder if Mayra and Davos already considered her family. It took all of his legendary willpower to not steal her away for himself and lose themselves in the rich History of Storm's End together.

Later, when he was busily working away in the smaller but more intimate library, he kept his head glued to his computer as Cressen showed her the areas of the room where she might want to start her research. He heard her ask about setting up her research here, as it would be easier than going back and forth between her room and the library, and unable to ignore them any longer, Stannis finally rose to speak to her.

He noted that she had changed and was wearing dark green pants and an ivory cable knit sweater along with Hunter rain boots. As much as Stannis had approved of her outfit this morning, he couldn't help but delight in what she was currently wearing. Her outfit mimicked one he often wore himself, and he felt a small shiver of pleasure that she seemed to like to explore the outdoors as much as she seemed to enjoy the inside of the Castle.

Had he been a different type of man, he simply would have taken her by the hand and gone for a walk on the grounds, delighting her with his charm and wit. Of course, she would smile at him as if he were the most intelligent and witty man in the entire world.

But he was not that type of man, and he kept his hands firmly at his side, lest they do something ridiculous all on their own.

"I often work in here, but if it doesn't bother you to share space, you are more than welcome to set up shop, so to speak, in here as well," Stannis said and spread an arm rather expansively to include the whole room.

While this might be the smaller of the two libraries, it was still a massive room, and Sansa gleefully saw another colossal fireplace that was happily roaring away. There were additional tables, leather couches and some very comfortable looking chairs in which Sansa could see herself curled up in reading.

When she looked back at him, she saw a hard look on his face. Even though he had said it was ok, she worried her lower lip and shot him a glance.

"Are you sure I won't be interrupting you?" She asked softly, and Stannis simply shook his head. She gave him a small smile.

"How was the tour?" He asked, and her lips parted, full and bright, and he was momentarily stunned that anyone could look at him with such exhilaration. He didn't know if he'd ever had such happiness directed his way.

"Overwhelming but in such a good way. Storms End is truly a property without rival," she gushed.

"Have you had a chance to visit other castles?" He asked seriously, and she shook her head.

"Well, no, but I can't imagine anything comparing to this," she said and gestured to the room. Then she lowered her voice as if she were sharing a secret with only him.

"Did you know that there are still murder holes in the lower levels? And it's said the Castle was never breached in all its years. That's amazing," she said, her eyes dancing with glee.

He did know these facts, of course. Storms End was his, but he found himself delighted that she found it just as intriguing.

Stannis felt his lips twitch minutely at her obvious delight in his home. He wondered briefly if there was someone, she wanted to push into said murder holes but dismissed the thought immediately. Sansa Stark did not strike him as the type of woman who planned for someone's grisly demise.

Knowing he was in danger of falling under her enchanting spell, Stannis straightened his spine and sent a look towards Cressen.

"Please ensure Ms. Stark has everything she needs, wherever she might want to work," he said and turned back to his desk.

"Sansa," he heard and turned his head. She blushed again and waved a hand. "My name is Sansa, Mr. Baratheon. We are basically living together, so I thought perhaps you might want to …." She trailed off when he didn't say anything and was just about to open her mouth and apologize for being so forward when he nodded.

"Sansa then," he said and turned to go back to sit behind his impressive desk. He needed to get his reaction to her under control. Immediately.

Sansa turned back to Cressen and asked if he minded showing her to her rooms one more time. She laughed prettily as she said she was sure she'd find her way around the Castle eventually, and Stannis let out a long groan when she was finally out of the room. He had no idea how he might even attempt to work with her ensconced a few feet away from him over the next few months, but it was too late to rescind the invitation now.

And then he remembered that she would be at dinner tonight. And breakfast the next morning, before she would undoubtedly follow him to his library and proceed to torment him the entire day with her beauty and her intelligence.

For six whole months.

Stannis thought she might drive him mad by the time the end of February came.

She was so far out of his league that he had no business even thinking about her that way. He wondered for a brief moment if he could somehow convince her to leave, perhaps a phone call to Ned Stark saying it wasn't working out, but he dismissed that idea almost immediately. He had given his word, and Stannis Baratheon was not a man that went back on his word, no matter what the cost to him.

Shaking himself from thoughts of Sansa Stark, he forced himself to concentrate on the chapter he was currently writing about the transition from monarchy to an oligarchy at the end of the Targaryen rule, hundreds of years ago. It was only his extraordinary commitment to discipline that allowed him to push the delightful redhead and her dancing blue eyes from his mind.

He would deal with her in his life as he had dealt with everything else.

A commitment to propriety, a stern countenance and an aloofness that turned almost everyone away from him. He was sure that within a few days, even Sansa Stark would want nothing to do with him and had convinced himself that was best for all involved.


	3. Non-Date Date

Tuesday morning started much the same as the day before, but this time Sansa made her way down to the kitchen by herself. Thankfully she'd given herself extra time, and she only got lost twice.

When she walked into the kitchen, she realized she was the last to arrive, and she would have felt bad, but Mayra hopped up and asked what she wanted for breakfast.

Sansa smiled and said that she was more than capable of making her breakfast and sent the older woman back to her seat, missing the knowing looks that were exchanged between Cressen, Davos and Mayra.

Stannis frowned and then watched as Sansa heated some water and took out a package of instant oats to make herself a bowl of porridge. She poured herself a cup of coffee and stood at the counter, waiting for the water to boil. It was a strange realization to witness how comfortable she was in his home.

He wasn't an idiot; he could see the delight on the meddlers he called his family, faces. He wanted to roll his eyes at them, but that would be childish and beneath him.

After Sansa had eaten, she glanced his way and asked softly if it was still alright if she accompanied him to the library to work today. He nodded at her and then stood to leave, and Sansa had to scramble to follow him, having brought her laptop, research and books with her to the kitchen.

Stannis thought that having another person share his workspace would be uncomfortable and irritating. He was surprised when it was not.

Sansa settled herself in the far corner of the library, and Stannis had to lean over his desk a touch further than usual to catch a glimpse of her. His whole bloody back was likely to be sore tomorrow the way he kept at it. He told himself it was his duty as her host to ensure she had everything she needed, but even he knew that to be a blatant lie. He just liked to see her there.

She was as quiet as could be, and he saw her curled up in a chair, having chosen a spot by the large fireplace, and was reading avidly, totally engrossed in one of the three books he had chosen for her.

After a time, he coughed, and she looked up, momentarily lost in the moment, and then sent him a confused look. He asked gruffly if the book he had picked out was helpful.

Once again, Sansa Stark sent him a smile that was brilliant and warm, and Stannis couldn't for the life of him recall when anyone had ever looked at him that way. He swore his heart stopped for a moment.

"It's fantastic," she said and thanked him again.

He nodded and went back to his work.

Mayra brought them lunch, and after they had eaten, Stannis rose to take his usual walk about the grounds. He found if he spent a couple of hours outdoors, his head cleared, and his work was much more productive.

When he glanced as his… he didn't know what to call her - Houseguest? Colleague? Soulmate?

_What? Soulmate?_ He was horrified at where that thought had come from, and he shoved it so far down he hoped it would never resurface.

Stannis settled on a colleague. When his eyes settled on his _colleague_, he realized that she was looking at him with a question in her eyes.

He cleared his throat and told her his routine and Sansa nodded, but not before he caught what he thought might be a wistful look in her eyes before it was gone. He was almost out of the room when he realized that she might want to accompany him.

After all, there was no way she'd seen everything at Storm's End yesterday, and he had been the one to suggest that she get to know the Castle.

He turned back and asked quietly, "Would you like to come with me, Sansa?"

Her beautiful face once again lit, as if there was something inside her that radiated happiness, and she sent him a smile.

"You wouldn't mind, Mr. Baratheon?" She said, and he could see the longing in her eyes, waring with her innate good manners.

And then he frowned when she called him by his full name. It made him sound old. Well, of course, he was old, but then he realized he hadn't given her leave to call him by his first name, and her breeding would never allow her to make presumptions.

If he thought of her as a colleague, then she should use his first name.

"Stannis," he said and saw that small smile that he'd come to rely on to make him feel warm inside. He cleared his throat again. "As we are colleagues, you should call me Stannis, Sansa. And no, I do not mind if you accompany me. You will find that I am a man without pretense. If I say something, I mean it," he told her sternly, and she nodded solemnly, but he could see the mirth dancing in her eyes.

If it had been anyone else, he would have thought she was laughing at him, but this was Sansa, and in the short time he'd come to know her, he knew she was not that type of person to make fun of him.

She hopped up from the seat and stretched, and Stannis sucked in a breath as her shirt rode up, so a sliver of her creamy, pale skin was exposed. She sent him a glance and told him she'd change and meet him in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.

In Stannis's experience, women were never on time, so it was with some degree of surprise when she walked into the kitchen, ready to go in fourteen minutes. She had on dark skinny jeans that hugged her delightfully long legs, tucked once again into her Hunter rain-boots, a green knit sweater, a cap in which she had pulled her long red hair through, and a rain jacket.

She grinned sheepishly and held up her phone. "The forecast said rain, and I'd hate to be unprepared."

Stannis fairly gaped at her and then saying nothing turned towards the exit, his long legs eating up the strides out the side door. Sansa kept up, and he appreciated the height of her. Because she could keep pace with him, and not, he told his traitorous brain, because he could easily imagine them wrapped around his body as he rode them both to a blistering orgasm.

With that thought lodged in his mind, Stannis huffed out an impatient breath and turned to show Sansa Stark his home.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What did you see yesterday?" He asked, and she listed off several areas of the Castle that both Cressen and Davos had shown her.

Then he saw her worry that plump, pink lower lip and groaned internally at the thoughts of doing that himself. He also knew her well enough by now to know that she had something on her mind.

"What do you want to see today, Sansa?" He asked, and she shot him a smile.

"The stables," she said, and he nodded.

One of his favourite things was his horses, even though right now he only had four; two mares, one stallion and a gelding. Stannis could spend hours in the saddle, riding over the vast lands that encompassed Storm's End. It wasn't just that the Castle itself was massive, but the entire estate sat on over two hundred acres of prime oceanfront land. And it all belonged to him.

"Do you ride?" He asked her.

"Since I was a child," Sansa said, and he could tell there was more to the statement than being a competent horsewoman. To his credit, Stannis did not pry.

They entered the stables, and the horses neighed softly, and for the first time, Stannis let himself relax. He loved being in the stables; animals never judged a person and were the most accepting creatures he had found.

He approached the large chestnut-brown stallion that was his, and the horse bumped his nose against Stannis's hand as he brought his other hand up the scratch his neck. He was lost in the moment and didn't see Sansa's gaze soften as he stroked the animal's neck.

When he turned, her face was once again a polite mask, and he introduced her to the four animals currently stabled at Storm's End. She immediately bonded with one of the pretty mares, and when she asked her name, he grunted Cassy.

She nodded and crooned softly to the horse, which neighed and nipped gently at Sansa.

Sansa felt the tears fill her eyes, and without turning to Stannis, she said, "My mother loved horses. It was something we did together since I was a little girl."

She laughed a bit, sad and slightly bitter. "What little girl doesn't want a horse, right?" She didn't even wait for him to comment and barreled on. "It was more than that, though; when we rode together, it was just us. She loved us all, but that was our time together. I haven't been on a horse since she died."

Sansa felt the mare rest her nose against Sansa's neck, and she got her emotions under control. She was grateful that when she turned back around, Stannis said nothing, and only indicated she should go first.

When they were out of the stable, a drizzle had started to fall, and Stannis grimaced.

"I was going to show you the way to the beach…" he started to say, and Sansa eagerly interrupted him.

"Yes, please," she said and indicated her hat, boots and coat.

Secretly delighted by her sense of adventure, Stannis only nodded curtly and led her to a doorway in the massive outer wall that led to a path down to the beach. The sea was wild and whipped up, white caps and swells pounding the shores, and Stannis and Sansa stood at a point that overlooked the lonely stretch of land.

"It's beautiful," Sansa said after a time, and Stannis hummed an agreement.

"Deadly," he countered, and she gave him that point.

"Beautiful and deadly. Sounds like the ideal…. Castle," she conceded with a smirk, and for the first time, she got a slight grin from Stannis Baratheon. And it was everything.

Sansa tucked that little moment away in her heart, as they made their way back to the Castle itself.

A pattern emerged following that second day. Each morning they all ate breakfast together before Stannis and Sansa retreated to the smaller library to work.

After lunch, Stannis showed her more and more of the grounds, providing context and detail that Davos either didn't know or didn't care about. Sansa soaked it all in.

She had yet to make it through the first books she'd found on her subject, so she was happy to settle into the library each day with her housemate to read.

She hadn't managed to wrest another grin from Stannis since the day they'd stood overlooking the beach, but she'd caught him watching her on more than one occasion. Sansa was hyper-aware of where Stannis was at all times.

On that first day, when he'd given her permission to use his first name, her heart had tripped, and that's when she knew she was in danger of falling for this severe man.

She respected his work ethic, was in love with his small family, and could honestly see herself never leaving Storm's End again. She loved it here so much.

But it was Stannis himself that drew her the most. She'd never met anyone quite like him. He was intelligent, whip-smart and had biting humour when he let it out to play, and he watched her like a hawk; not to hurt her but at times as if he wanted to devour her.

She'd never met a man that made more of a point to keep space between them, and he never pressed any unwanted touches or advances on her, despite her thinking she would welcome them.

She knew he was the type of man that would ever hurt a woman, but he might crush her heart if he never felt for her the way she was fast starting to feel for him. He was still very much a puzzle to her, and one that she was more determined than ever to unravel.

It was on Friday morning when Sansa startled out the book she was currently reading on Argella and Orys Baratheon's marriage, as she heard Stannis utter a low curse under his breath.

She would have left it at that, but then he let his fist thump down on his desk, and that had Sansa arching her eyebrows. She'd rarely seen him display any such emotion, let alone two in a matter of seconds.

"Problem?" She asked, and his blue eyes whipped around to pin hers as if he'd forgotten that she was even there.

He almost looked embarrassed that she had caught him losing some of his legendary control. He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair.

"My editor," he practically spat. "They are away and without internet access for the next two weeks. Her husband is taking her on a hike in the Westerlands, and there is no possible way she can look at my latest chapters."

Sansa held his gaze and then without even thinking about it, she blurted out, "I could take a look at them if you'd like."

Stannis raised his eyebrows and pinned her with a look.

Sansa wanted to rescind the offer immediately but straightened her spine. She might not be a best-selling author, but she was an accomplished historian, and she was a damn good editor. She met his look with one of her own and saw him nod.

"Would you prefer a word copy or a printed version?" He asked. He was desperate.

Sansa laughed and held up a red pen.

"Oh, a printed version for sure," she said and wagged an elegant eyebrow at him. "I'm brutal just so that you know."

He snorted at that, and she gave him a look of mock outrage.

"It's true," she said. "I even had a nickname in university," she told him, and he could hear the playful tone in her voice.

He shook his head at her, and she continued.

"The Grammar Gaoler. Get it. After the infamous brutal guards of the black cells in Kings Landing," she told him, and he groaned.

"That is awful," he said truthfully, and she gave him one of her brilliant smiles.

"Awful or not, I am worth my weight in gold when it comes to editing," she told him.

Stannis sighed. He had no other choice.

"Are you sure?" He asked, hating to be an imposition.

She nodded.

"Stannis, you've done so much for me. Let me help you out for once," she finished quietly, and he gave her a grateful nod and one of his rare smiles.

Sansa was sure he was about to say more, but Mayra interrupted them with lunch and a reminder that they were on their own after this meal.

Stannis frowned; he had forgotten that Davos and Mayra were headed to Whitehead to visit their son and grandchildren and that Cressen always had weekends off.

"Don't frown, you won't starve," she told him, listing out the meals she had prepared and put in the fridge or freezer. "We'll be back mid-week, and then I'll cook up a storm for you," she said and winked at him, pleased at her pun.

Stannis gave her one of his customary frowns. After Mayra had left, an award silence descended between them.

"Please feel free to help yourself to whatever you'd like, Sansa," Stannis said, worried about her comfort without Davos and Mayra around to feed her.

She waved a hand, unworried. "I'm a student, Stannis. I can live off ramen for a week."

She watched as a horrified look came over his face at such a thought.

"Surely you haven't tested that theory?" he said, almost shuddering in disgust.

She laughed at him and assured him that it was quite possible.

"That won't do," he muttered, and before he knew what had come over him, he looked up at her. "There's a pub in the village. We can go there tonight for dinner," he said and saw Sansa's eyes widened in shock, and then excitement.

She might have teased him and asked if he was asking her on a date, but nothing Stannis had done had indicated he was interested in her like that.

_She might have a crush on him, and who wouldn't? _She thought. But she knew he didn't think of her like that.

He was the sexiest man she'd ever met, all buttoned up and contained, but she sensed a passion smouldering beneath his stern outer layer.

She felt a kindred spirit with Stannis Baratheon; someone who loved the past as much as she did, and who didn't quite fit in the modern world. It was hopeless she knew, to think he might one day be interested in someone like her; she was young and unproven and probably not the type of woman that Stannis Baratheon wanted on his arm.

Sansa preferred a cozy evening at home, then going out to fancy parties, and she knew that he was one of the wealthiest men in the country.

Still, it would be fun to go to the pub and mix with the locals, and she found herself accepting before he could take back his offer.

"I'd love that," she said, and he nodded and then, as if unsure of what had exactly happened, turned back to his work, muttering that his printer wasn't responding.

Smiling to herself, Sansa lowered her head and lost herself in thoughts of what she should wear to her not-date-date with the man who was quickly stealing her heart.

Sansa skipped the walk around the grounds that afternoon, wanting to give herself extra time to get ready.

She knew that she was silly, that it wasn't a date-date.

They were just two colleagues going for dinner together.

But still, Sansa wanted to make a good impression.

It was a pub, so she had finally settled on black leggings with cute leather boots, a long cream button-down shirt which she rolled the sleeves up on and a wide brown leather belt. She paired it with a distressed army green military jacket and left her long hair loose and curling down her back. She applied the barest hint of makeup, only enough to emphasize her eyes and her cheekbones, and the faintest pink lip gloss. For some reason, she just knew that Stannis Baratheon was not a man that would respond to a heavily made-up woman.

When she walked downstairs, she found Stannis standing in the front entrance, and she stopped for a moment, stunned by just how handsome he looked.

Stannis berated himself the moment he asked her to the pub. He didn't want her to think it was a date, only because he couldn't imagine her saying yes to a date with him. He knew he was considered an eligible bachelor, but that was due to his name, his breeding and his wealth.

To someone like Sansa, he was her older work colleague who was offering her some fish and chips and a beer at the local pub after a long week of work. Still, he was glad she'd begged off the walk, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Stannis stopped work early to get ready.

For his non-date-date with Sansa Stark.

He'd fretted over what to wear until he finally gave himself a stern talking too and pulled on dark grey chinos, a blue button-down and a sweater. His one concession to fashion was his favourite leather jacket that slid comfortably over his lean frame. It was the one thing he owned that he knew he looked good in.

There was nothing to be done about anything else. His hair was greying and leaving his head, and the lines around his eyes pronounced his age. He was a forty-seven-year-old man, that was falling for a woman almost half his age, and he was helpless to stop it despite how very cliché it made him feel.

He didn't have a chance in hell with her, but none the less, he'd invited her out, and there was no backing out now.

When Sansa came down the stairs, Stannis was trying not to fiddle with his keys and was mostly succeeding until he caught sight of her and then just stood there, shockingly still.

She was stunning, young, fresh and effortlessly beautiful. And then she smiled at him and complimented his jacket, and before he knew it, she leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, thanking him for inviting her out.

Shaking his head slightly and recovering, he opened the door to the front yard and then offered her his arm as they made their way to the converted garage that housed his impressive selection of vehicles.

When he opened the door for her, her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped as she took in some of the few toys he'd indulged in. He couldn't help the small grin that came to his face. He liked horses, whether four legs or under the hood of an engine.

"You have a motorcycle?" She said and gave him a look that was pure heat.

He nodded, and Sansa licked her lips.

"Holy man, who knew?" She muttered, and he couldn't help but feel a small swell of pride. He wasn't just the history nerd she thought she knew, and for a brief moment, he thought he might have a chance with her.

He had no idea what made him do it, but he leaned in and lowered his voice and said, "Play your cards right, and I might take you for a ride one day, Ms. Stark."

Sansa threw back her head and laughed, clutched his arm and then pinned him with a sultry gaze. "Oh, I am holding you to that offer, Mr. Baratheon."

Shaking his head, he then led her over the silver Range Rover Defender that was waiting silently in the middle of the garage, big, boxy and powerful.

"Are we planning a bank heist?" She joked, and he was instantly defensive, thinking she was making fun of him.

When he realized she was flirting with him, he shook his head and laughed a bit. It seemed he laughed more around Sansa than he ever had before in his entire life.

"No, but we do have to drive through some backcountry, and there are animals out at night, especially in the fall. I'd much rather hit a deer in this than my Mercedes," he explained, and Sansa hummed her approval, climbing into the massive vehicle as daintily as she could.

Soon enough, Stannis was pulling into the sleepy little village that butted up against Storm's End. Davos had been right again; there wasn't much here in terms of amenities, but Stannis promised the food was decent, and the beer was good.

When he parked the large SUV, he went to her side and opened the door, and before he knew it, she slid her arm into his and sent him another one of those smiles he was sure were explicitly designed to wear down every single defence he had against her down to nothing.

Seeing no way out of it, Stannis guided her into the pub, and when they entered, all heads swung towards them.

Of course, everyone knew who he was, but no one had ever seen Stannis Baratheon on a date in the village and knowing smiles creased their faces.

The pub had a massive oak bar, with the typical stools lined up, half-filled on this Friday evening. There were multiple tables and a few booths against the back wall, along with a snooker table, dart boards, a genuine karaoke machine and televisions scattered throughout all showing the same football match.

In this sleepy village, the clear warning that cigarettes caused cancer had either never come or had been pointedly ignored, and Sansa grinned at the authenticity of it all.

"Booth or table?" Stannis asked, voice low and directly in her ear.

Sansa shivered at how close he was. Over the smell of beer and smoke, she could smell Stannis. And he smelled delicious.

She turned her head slightly and licked her lips and said, "Booth."

Stannis swore he groaned before he could think about it, grabbed her hand and led her to the one unoccupied booth left. Somehow, against all his careful planning and self-denials, this non-date-date had turned into an authentic, important date with a woman that made Stannis lose his head.

There was no use in denying it anymore; he was in deep with Sansa Stark, and against all the odds, it appeared she was interested in him as well.

When they got to the booth, Sansa scooted in, and Stannis sat right beside her. It was a horseshoe shape and probably could have accommodated six full-grown adults, but he and Sansa sat side by side, so their thighs pressed up against one another.

A waitress wandered over to drop two single-page menus on the table and asked for their drink order.

"Is there anything you don't like?" Stannis asked her and Sansa shook her head.

While most would probably peg her for a woman who loved wine, Sansa had grown up with five brothers, a wild sister and father who all loved beer. She was sitting in a pub, with a man that made her heart race, in a sleepy little village in The Stormlands. She would not ruin this moment by ordering a glass of chardonnay.

She looked at the waitress and asked what they had that was good, red and on tap. The waitress rattled off a few colourful names, and Sansa gave her a bit of a look until she took pity on her.

"The local red is delicious," she told Sansa, and Sansa nodded at that.

Stannis said he'd have on as well. When the waitress left a comfortable tension settled between them and Stannis reached down and held her hand. Sansa thought the gesture was one of the sweetest ones anyone had ever offered her, and her heart raced.

"Are we going to talk about this?" He asked, hating how insecure he sounded.

He wished he were the type of man that could live just in the moment, but Sansa was not only his guest, but she was also his friend's daughter, and he didn't want to ruin anything.

She smiled, prettily at him and squeezed his hand.

"It's been a long time since I've felt something like this," she said and held up their joined hand.

"Are you sure?" He asked, needing her confirmation, and she nodded.

"You?"

He sighed and looked straight in her eyes.

"It's been a long time for me as well," he told her and saw a light come into her eyes at that confession

"Well, then, I guess that works out well for us both, doesn't it," she said, and he nodded.

The waitress reappeared with their beer, and they were content to sit and sip their pints, holding hands and asking each other questions about their respective fields.

When the waitress came back and asked what they wanted to eat, Stannis leaned in and told Sansa that the only decent meal was the fish and chips, so that was what they both ordered.

Once again, his voice in her ear sent a shiver down her spine, and she knew that Stannis noticed the effect he had on her. Neither wanted another drink, so Sansa switched to diet soda, and Stannis had coffee and water.

When their food finally arrived, they tucked in, reluctantly releasing each other's hands, and managed to learn a little bit more about each other.

Sansa learned that Stannis bought his first motorcycle after he'd sold his first book. He looked sheepish when he'd confessed it had been a total whim.

Stannis learned that Sansa was not only an accomplished historian but that she also loved to sew and make her clothes.

Slowly they shared bits of themselves until their meal was done. He'd seen her discreet yawn and knew they were both tired even though he was sure neither wanted the evening to end. He held out his hand, which Sansa immediately grasped and went to the bar to settle the bill before leading her out into the crisp autumn night.

Sansa sucked in a big breath of fresh, crisp air and looked up at the sky, gasping at the millions of stars the lit the night sky.

"I love this time of year best," she confessed, and though he'd never thought about his favourite season, he could see the appeal of fall.

When they arrived back at Storm's End, Stannis tried to calm his racing heart. He didn't know what was expected of him. He wasn't well versed in dating and the protocol, and it was a bit odd because they lived in the same place.

Granted Storms End was larger than some apartment buildings, but still. It was the principle.

He didn't want to be too forward, but he also didn't want her to think he wasn't interested in her. And he was still worried that if he kissed her, it would make things awkward between them. All that faded when they entered the main house, still holding hands and Sansa turned to face him. He wrapped his arms around her and traced a finger down her cheek.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Stannis," Sansa said and smiled at him.

"I hate to be this type of man," he started to say and saw a brief look of worry in her eyes, "but I need you to be sure you want this Sansa. Because I'm afraid if I kiss you and then you don't want me tomorrow, it might just devastate me."

He had never been this vulnerable with anyone, but then he had never met anyone like Sansa Stark. He knew she was worth the risk.

"Oh, Stannis, I'm sure," Sansa said, her heart melting at his confession. "As long as you're sure as well," she whispered.

Stannis Baratheon might not be the most experienced man when it came to women, but even he wasn't that big of an idiot. Standing in his arms was one of the most amazing women he had ever met.

In five short days, she had wormed her way past all his natural defences and into his heart. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, gentle at first, until he heard that first slight moan, and then he deepened the kiss until they were both needing to come up for air.

"I need to take this slow," she said and looked him in the eyes. "Not because of you, but because there are things in my past…." She said, and he kissed her quickly.

"I'm good with slow," he said, and she nodded and then kissed him quickly and stepped back.

"I had the best time tonight. Thank you," she told him and grinned, almost shyly, before turning and making her way up the stairs and to her apartment

Stannis stood there for five whole minutes, stunned and delighted at the unexpected turn the evening had taken. It appeared that despite his doubts and his insecurities, Sansa Stark was interested in him as well.

And then he frowned when he thought about what she had said. Not about taking it slow; that was not a problem for a man like Stannis. But why.

He felt a cold rage come over him at the thought that someone had hurt the exquisite woman that, if he was frank with himself, he was already half in love with.

More than ever, he was glad that she was here, in his home, where he could protect her, and he vowed to find out what she had been through and to treat her the way that she deserved. Hanging his coat and his keys up, Stannis made his way to his private quarters, where he poured himself a scotch and then sat in his favourite chair, where he lost himself in thoughts of the charming, very intriguing, Sansa Stark.


	4. Horseback Ride

Stannis arrived in the kitchen the next morning before Sansa. He was a naturally early riser, being the disciplined and routine driven man, he was and saw no need to change his schedule simply because it was the weekend.

He had no expectations that Sansa would arrive at her usual time, so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat down with the Saturday paper. After ten minutes, he pushed it aside, willing to admit that he couldn't concentrate.

All he could think about was Sansa.

_Would things be different today? Would she be keen on spending time with him? What did she mean by taking things slowly? Was he allowed to kiss her good morning, or would that be too awkward and forward of him?_

Perhaps he should suggest another date, but unless she wanted to drive for hours to a more significant center like Summerhall or Whitehead, there wasn't much for dating opportunities at Storm's End.

He hoped she might want to go horseback riding with him today. He'd checked, and the weather was perfect for an autumn day spent outdoors, and she had shown a keen interest in his mare and the activity itself.

Stannis was still lost in his thoughts when she entered the kitchen a few minutes before eight. She had on more casual wear than on a weekday, but it did not detract from her beauty at all.

Fumbling a bit, he rose from the table where had been seated and awkwardly went to greet her, still unsure of what he was going to do when he reached her.

Thankfully, Sansa had woken up eager to see him again, and walked up to him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Good morning Stannis," she said, smiling at catching him slightly off guard and went to turn away to make her coffee.

Then she felt a strong hand reach out to grasp her elbow, and he pulled her back to his lean, taut body. He carded his hands through her hair and pinned her body to his and lowered his lips to hers, pouring a bit more heat into the exchange than he had previously allowed.

"Good morning, Sansa," he said, his voice a low rumble that shot a bolt of lust straight to Sansa's belly.

She laughed slightly and grinned.

"It is now," she agreed, and they broke apart so she could find coffee, and he could watch her move about his kitchen.

He liked that she was comfortable here and had made herself at home within a week of living at Storm's End. When she sat down across from him, she blew on her oatmeal to cool it and made eye contact with him.

Stannis took a deep breath.

"I thought, if you were interested, we might tour some of the countryside today. By horseback," he added as an afterthought.

He wasn't quite ready to have Sansa wrap her body around him on the back of his motorcycle. Given his luck, he'd be too distracted by her rubbing against him, and he would crash, and they'd both be in a world of pain. And humiliation for him.

He was much more confident on his horse, Fury and her on Cassey.

"I would love that," she gushed and nodded eagerly. "Maybe we can bring a picnic?" She asked, eyes wide, bright and excited, and he worried about what to pack.

Stannis frowned, unsure what exactly was available for a picnic on such short notice, but Sansa waved a hand at his frowning face

"I mean, if you'll let me pack us some lunch. All you need to do is bring a bottle of wine," she said and winked at him.

Nodding almost dumbly, he agreed he could do that. Sansa had a way of making things easy for him, and Stannis appreciated that.

Once she was finished her breakfast, they agreed to meet in the stables in an hour.

Before Stannis left to ensure everything was ready with the horses, he watched while Sansa puttered around his kitchen, pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards. It warmed something deeply in Stannis to see a woman in that space again; not since his mother had anyone other than Mayra seemed happy to be here.

Certainly, Cersei Lannister never had, the few times Robert had dragged her to Storm's End. She had been a demanding and distasteful woman, and Stannis had counted the minutes until she left his home.

Taking one last look at Sansa humming happily as she hauled food out of the fridge, Stannis forced himself to go and get ready for their day together.

True to her word, Sansa walked into the stables an hour later in classic riding gear and a rucksack filled with their lunch. When he looked at the pack, she explained that she would distribute it evenly between the two horses. Stannis had already saddled Cassey and Fury, and Sansa pouted a bit that she had missed him doing that chore.

Stannis, for his part, was doing all he could not ravish her in the stables, looking at her in modern riding attire that most formally trained horsewomen wore.

She had on tan riding pants, black riding boots, a white button-down shirt and a black jacket and carried her back helmet.

While he was dressed more casually in jeans and boots with a warm sweater and a coat, he knew the advantages to wearing such an outfit while riding for a long time, and he also knew it marked Sansa as an accomplished rider.

Every single part of Stannis approved.

She smiled sheepishly.

"I asked my father before I came if you had horses," she confessed. "I know it's a bit much…" she started, and he coughed and shook his head.

"It's not," he said, interrupting her. "It's not too much at all."

Pleased with his reaction, she smiled at him and then went about distributing their lunch into the saddlebags on either side of each horse. She found not one but two bottles of wine, a red and a white and thought that was just Stannis Baratheon's style. He wouldn't hedge his bets but cover them completely on what she might like. He was not a man that left things to chance, as Sansa was learning.

Stannis took her hand once she had the food tucked away and went over some basics about both horses as well as a map of the extensive grounds that encompassed Storm's End.

It was just past 9 a.m., and he was unsure how long she might either want to or be willing to ride for. He needed to know before they left; if she only wanted to ride for an hour, then that would be fine, but he needed to know.

She gave him a rueful grin.

"It's been a while, so why do we go for an hour and then reassess. I'd love to say I could stay out all day, but it's been years since I've been on a horse, and my body might be screaming at me in a little while," she ruefully, and he appreciated her honesty.

He had the perfect place to take her.

Still holding her hand, and wasn't that a sweet, small pleasure, Sansa thought, Stannis led her to her horse and watched as she expertly mounted the animal. He nodded at her competency and walked to Fury, who was pawing at the ground, excited to ride and to have some company.

"Easy," Stannis murmured to him in that low, deep voice and ran a hand down his neck. Sansa could only imagine him doing the same to her, and she squirmed at the coil of desire deep in her core. The thought of Stannis stroking her had her almost panting in need. She had it so bad for Stannis Baratheon.

Once Stannis was mounted, he watched as she secured her helmet and nodded at her before he led them out of the stables. Sansa's mare was a feisty four-year-old horse, and although Stannis's stallion was much larger, Sansa could feel the spirit in hers, and she ran a hand lovingly down her neck.

"We're going to be quite good friends, I'd imagine," she crooned to her, and the pretty mare flicked her mane as if to say, _of course_.

Laughing and delighted at the day ahead of her, Sansa smiled as Stannis lead to out some open fields and gave her a look.

"Ready?" He asked, and she nodded, and then he pressed his heels into Fury and whistled and off they shot.

For a single brief moment, Sansa watched in delight at the picture they made, before Cassy neighed as if to say _what was she waiting for_, and Sansa did the same to her.

She knew that Stannis and Fury could leave them in their dust, but she caught up to him quickly.

For the next hour they cantered comfortably through fields and streams, over hills and small patches of wooded forests until finally, an hour and a half after they had left Storm's End, Stannis brought them an old ruin that stood on a small hill, with a patch of trees and a little stream that ran through the base of the hill.

Delighted, Sansa slid from Cassy and patted her down and asked if she could let her loose. Stannis nodded; the horses would graze and drink from the stream, and he and Sansa could sit under the tree and eat their lunch. He pulled the blanket from one of Fury's saddlebags and spread it out, while Sansa worked at unpacking their food.

She'd thrown together an impressive picnic lunch in a short time; a pasta salad, a selection of cold cuts, apples, cheese and some crackers along with a slab of dark chocolate cake that Mayra had baked the night before they had left.

Stannis had tucked two bottles of water in as well and brought them along with the wine over to the blanket, where he sat down and stretched out against the tree where they had set up their makeshift lunch.

Much to his delight, Sansa sat down right beside him, and he lifted his arm so she could sit flush beside him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed contentedly.

They had a perfect view of the valley in front of them, and in the distance, as always, Storms End. The weather today was perfect, just a bit cool and sunny, and the puffy white clouds in the blue sky only added to the postcard-like quality.

Stannis leaned down and sniffed Sansa's hair, something akin to lavender and lemons and let his hand stroke her shoulder before he pressed a soft kiss to the crown on her head.

"This is utterly perfect," she sighed contently and tilted her head to his, light blue eyes meeting dark blue ones, and he could only nod. Never in his wildest imagination could he have conceived of anyone matching him so well.

"It is," he said and saw her smile at that.

He was not a man prone to exaggeration. If this was perfect for Stannis, then he meant it. Content to bask at the moment, Sansa let her hand rest on his thigh and asked him questions about the ruin and the land.

Happy to share what he knew with someone who cared, Stannis told her what little he knew to be fact before he glanced at her and said there were legends about this place. Her eyes perked up at that, and she blushed.

"I know, corroborated facts are a historian's best friend," she said, but she gave him a mischievously look. "But it's just so much fun sometimes to let your imagination wander and think, _what if_. It's one of my favourite games. I can picture myself in the past so easily sometimes. My family constantly makes fun of me," she told him quickly.

Her family had not made her feel inadequate the way he had.

Even though he was not a man prone to whimsy, Stannis could relate to her. Robert had teased him mercilessly when he'd gotten lost in the past. Stannis trailed a finger down her perfect face and asked what she imagined when she first saw Storm's End.

Sansa laughed and blushed a bit and then gave him a look.

"Do you want to know?" She asked him, afraid that he would think she was silly and not a serious historian.

He gave her a look and reminded her that he was not a man that spoke idly, and she nodded at that.

"Well, I could imagine that I was the Lady of Storm's End and that my husband was the Lord. Perhaps he was off at war or negotiating something important in Kings Landing. I'd imagine he would most likely have a prominent place on the small council, as the proximity of Storms End to the Capital would make the two regions natural allies," she said and then she blushed.

"And who was this Lord you were married to, Sansa? Was he a good man? A fair man? Or was he like those we read about in the history books? Driven to perform distasteful acts to gain power and wealth? Was he kind or cruel to you and his people?" Stannis said, and Sansa felt her heart thump.

She knew this had gone beyond mere speculation. Their bodies had leaned in just slightly closer to one another.

"I think he would have been stern, but fair. Ruled by logic and a sense of duty, but with a deep abiding passion and love for his wife below his rigid outer shell," Sansa said, almost whispering against his lips.

Their faces had moved quite close together, and there was hardly any space between them.

"And would that be alright with you? A stern man, ruled by duty but one that you knew loved you? A man that had a deep passion that was hidden from everyone except the one he loved the most?" Stannis asked, and she felt his breath against her lips.

"Yes, in fact, I think he might just be the perfect man for me," she said and saw him nod.

"That's good," he said and pulled back, and Sansa was left panting and needy. She had no idea how he hadn't leaned in to take everything she was willingly offering him at that moment.

Had she not been so caught up in her desire, she would have noticed that Stannis was struggling to keep himself under control. It was only his iron will that kept him from ravishing her right here in the open field while their horses grazed, and the world spun lazily around them.

Instead, he drew back and opened a bottle of wine and offered her a tumbler, which she willingly accepted, and they settled down to eat their lunch and calm their racing hearts.

Stannis told her about the myth that this ruin had been where Durran Godsgrief, builder of Storms End himself, had built this small keep away from the sea so he could bring his bride, Elenei to love her so her parents could not get to her. Her parents, the sea god and the goddess of the wind had angered Durran after they had ruined his wedding, and he vowed never to allow them to interrupt his time with his wife again.

"Oh, that's lovely," Sansa said wistfully, and Stannis gave her a look.

"It's rubbish," he said but smiled to help soften some of the sting of his words.

She gave him a small push.

"Perhaps, but still," she said and sighed. "To be that loved that a man would build you a secret hideaway to be with only you," she said, and he saw the look in her eyes and hoped that she did not expect him to be that type of man.

Stannis had no idea what to do about romance, which was ironic because the entire day had been one straight from Sansa's fantasies. He didn't do things by half measures, and when he was with her, he was fully invested in her, and his attention never wavered.

Once they had packed up their lunch and fed the horses each an apple, Stannis asked if she wanted to go further, and she nodded eagerly. He told her there was a path that would take them down to the sea, away from Storm's End but still on Shipwrecker Bay and they spent the next few hours making their way down to the coast.

When they finally saw the sea, Sansa's breath caught. It was a perfect moment, and they seemed to be the only two people on this coast.

"Is this all yours?" She asked.

She knew the beach adjacent to the beach was a critical part of Storm's End, but they had to be miles from the Castle. He nodded, and she could see the pride he had in his land.

"It's breathtaking," she said, and he grunted his agreement.

"Sometimes," he started to say, and then he stopped, unsure if he should share something so personal with her. But then he remembered their kiss last night and another one this morning and that moment on the blanket under the tree.

When he looked at Sansa, all he saw was openness and a lack of judgement, so he decided to trust her.

"Sometimes I think it's obscene; one man owning such a vast property. Especially because I have no children," he said quietly to her. "But it's mine. It's been in the Baratheon family for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and I cannot let any of it go."

"Stannis," Sansa said and reached out to grasp his hand. They were sitting side by side on their horses.

"There's time yet, for all of that," she told him and smiled. "This is yours, and you should never apologize for it."

He nodded and squeezed her hand, pleased she understood his connection to this land and his home. No matter how much might be falling for Sansa Stark, Storm's End was the only place he would ever live, and he needed her to understand how important it was to him.

They stayed another few minutes and then he gently told her they had to go, as they were hours away from the Castle now, and she nodded. The ride back was pleasant, each lost in their thoughts, and they arrived back at the stables just dusk was descending. Sansa dismounted and insisted on doing her part. She took care of the horse, including lifting the heavy saddle from the mare's back. Stannis was impressed with her muscles, and Sansa grinned at him and then happily brushed Cassey and fed her another apple, whispering that she had been a good girl for her today.

When they both had their horses back in their respective stalls, Stannis held his hand out for Sansa, and she willingly took it as they leisurely made their way back into the Castle. Stannis cleared his throat, and Sansa turned to face him.

"I'm sure there is something we can heat up for dinner," he said, then added. "That is if you'd like to join me."

"I'd love that," she said and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Give me an hour to shower, and I'll be down."

He nodded and let her hand go and watched her disappear up the stairs, more pleased than he thought possible about the day they had just shared, and eagerly looking forward to the evening.


	5. Movie Night

Sansa hurried up the stairs and willed herself not to look back at the man that she was pretty sure she was falling in love with that was standing in the entryway watching her leave. She made sure she swivelled her hips just a touch more to ensure that his eyes were on her ass and then smiled to herself as she practically sprinted to her room. She wanted to shower and change and be back with Stannis as soon as possible.

It was so hard to believe he was the same stern man she’d met a week ago. No one would ever accuse Stannis Baratheon of being footloose and fancy-free, but the more time Sansa spent with him, the easier he was to read. He wasn’t rude; just reserved. He wasn’t stern; just careful. He wasn’t devoid of a sense of humour; his wit was just dry and cutting. The way he looked at her made Sansa feel precious and unique, and it had been a very long time since that had happened. She felt both safe and exhilarated in his presence, and she just wanted to spend every moment possible that she could with him puzzling him out. She thought that they just fit when they were together, and she was excited to see where this might go. She’d never felt anything like this before in her limited dating history.

When she got to her rooms, she quickly stripped off her riding habit, and though she glanced longingly at the claw-footed bathtub, she knew she didn’t have time. She could picture Stannis standing in the kitchen, baffled by what to make for them. She loved that he put so much thought and effort into her desires and wants. She showered quickly, knowing her muscles would be screaming at her tomorrow. Still, she wouldn’t trade today for anything in the world. It had been almost perfect. The only thing that might have made it even better was if Stannis had kissed her under the tree, but that was hardly worth quibbling over when everything else had been so beautiful. And she’d have another chance tonight with him, determined to steal some more of those passionate kisses that he so reluctantly seemed to want to give out.

Standing in front of her closet, she pondered what to wear. She had seen the modern media room that had been tucked in a lower level of the Castle, and she hoped to convince Stannis to cuddle up and watch a movie with her later. Maybe a political thriller? That seemed like his type of film. Of course, if Sansa had her way, she’d talk him into something along the lines of Pride and Prejudice, but she didn’t know many men that would willingly sit through that movie. She wanted to stun him but be comfortable. In the end, she went with another pair of black leggings and a soft blue cashmere sweater that she hoped would invite him to touch her the way he had Fury today. Sansa might have said she wanted to take things slow, but that didn’t mean she was opposed to a hot and heavy make-out session with Stannis Baratheon on his sofa.

As she predicted, when Sansa walked back into the kitchen, she saw Stannis standing in front of several dishes he had taken out, and he gave her an almost helpless look. Then he frowned.

“Before you think I am completely incompetent at feeding myself, that is not it. I do not know your preferences,” he said to explain himself, and she nodded at him. She was quickly learning that Stannis was very sensitive to how she perceived him, and it seemed vital that he not be made fun of. As long as her teasing was gentle and flirty, he could handle it. She wondered who had made him feel less than adequate? In her opinion, he excelled at everything he did.

“I’m pretty easy going,” she told him, knowing the information was important to Stannis. “I grew up in a house of eight people, so we ate whatever Mom made.”

Stannis continued frowning. “You have no preference?” He said and indicated the three dishes he had before him: lasagna, Shepard’s pie and a chicken pot pie.

“Lasagna sounds good,” she said and then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “We didn’t open the bottle of red from the picnic, and I think there’s enough fresh veg to make a salad,” she told him, and he grunted, happy she had made a decision. It honestly didn’t matter to him; he just wanted to make sure she would be satisfied.

Soon enough, Sansa buzzed around the kitchen, chopping vegetables for the salad, drinking a glass of wine and waiting for the oven to heat. He stood beside her, leaning against the counter, and each time she brushed by him, she made sure she touched him; an arm, his shoulder, a quick kiss. Every time she did, she saw his eyes darken a bit more and knew she was working him up. She would have let out a triumphant smile if she hadn’t fanned her own flames of desire.

When the food was finally ready, they sat across from one another at the kitchen table and spoke about the day, and what else Sansa might want to see. They agreed that the country was best viewed on horseback, and there were acres still to visit. When Sansa rose to clean the table, Stannis stood to help her, and when everything was put away, she turned towards him, and he drew her into his arms.

“And what would you like to do now?” He asked her and brushed back a lock of her hair that had escaped the long braid down her back.

“Maybe a movie?” She said, tentatively and he nodded and then leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips before grabbing her hand and leading her towards his very modern media room.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t here when there was a Lord and Lady of Storm’s End,” Sansa joked softly to him, and he grinned ruefully and shook his head.

“I admit, I do like to indulge, and there isn’t a cinema within a hundred miles of Storm’s End that is worth my time or money,” he told her, and she tucked that bit of information away.

Then the age-old question that faced all newly dating couples rose its ugly head; what would they watch?

Sansa gave him a worried look, and he straightened his shoulders, concerned about what she was about to say.

“You have to promise that you won’t sit through something that you hate, just because you want me to be happy,” she told him sternly, and his eyes widened at her sombre tone. He’d never seen anyone take the selection of a movie so seriously. Before he could respond, she barreled on. “And, I’ll tell you right now, I don’t like horror or anything too bloody. Or scary. Or gory. I can handle it if it’s a period piece, like _Braveheart _or something, but I don’t love it.”

Stannis nodded, and he appreciated his honesty. Sansa had a way of telling him what she thought that allowed him to be direct with her. “Fine. I don’t like stupid, idiotic comedies, dumb action movies or pretentious foreign films. If I wanted to read, I’d choose a book.”

She nodded solemnly at his list as if it were of great importance that she knew this information. “Romance?” She asked, and he titled his head.

“I prefer historical and not those dreaded rom-coms,” he said and shuddered. She laughed gaily at Stannis, saying the word rom-com.

“Alright, now the million-dollar question: new release or already in distribution?”

He thought about it. “I don’t mind re-watching a film if it is good enough. But I prefer one that we both haven’t seen.”

“Ok, I can live with that,” she said and then she grinned. “Just for the record, Mr. Baratheon, I can watch a film I love a least a dozen times.”

He narrowed his eyes and pinned her with a look. “Name one film you’ve watched a dozen times, Ms. Stark.” He challenged her, and she sent him a triumphant grin.

“The latest Pride and Prejudice,” she said and saw him frown.

“There’s a new one?” He asked, somewhat bewildered, and she laughed. He knew of one such mini-series, but that was over five hours long. She couldn’t possibly expect them to sit through that. Could she?

“It’s a couple of years old now, but it’s shorter than the mini-series,” she told him and shrugged. Stannis had an enigmatic look on his face thankful he didn't have to sit through almost six hours of Austen.

“And do you see yourself as Elizabeth, Sansa?” Stannis finally asked, and she laughed and shook her head.

“Gods no. If anything, I’m more like Jane,” she told him, pleased he knew the story.

He arched an eyebrow at that. “And who am I?” he asked, and she tried not to smile.

“Oh, you are more a Mr. Darcy than you are a Mr. Bingley,” she told him, and then squeezed his hand, which she hadn’t stopped holding from the moment they had left the kitchen. She liked how he seemed to want to touch her and was getting more comfortable with it. “But don’t worry, it’s just a movie Stannis.”

He huffed out a breath. It was true that he related much more to the Darcy character than the Bingley one, but he didn’t want Sansa to think that meant they were not compatible.

“If you’d like we could watch Beauty and the Beast,” she said, grinning at him. “They just made a live-action version of the cartoon.”

He gave her a blank look, and she tipped her head back and laughed. “You know, the Prince who was turned into a Beast, who skulked around his castle, until a beautiful and brilliant woman showed up and fell in love with him, breaking the curse,” Sansa said her lips twitching.

“I am not a beast,” he said indignantly.

“Oh no, you’re not,” she agreed, then lowered her voice and said, “At least not in public. I don’t know about the bedroom yet,” and she saw the desire and heat flare in his eyes.

He leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “Do not tease me, Sansa. While I am a man that prides myself on myself control, even I have limits,” and pressed a kiss to her neck. She moaned, low and long, and arched into him, pushing her body against his.

They were caught for a moment in the sheer want for one another, before once again, Stannis pulled back and shook his head as if trying to tame the raging desire he felt by will alone.

“Alright, let’s see what is so special about this new Pride and Prejudice,” he muttered and grabbed the controllers to start the sound and screen and cue up the movie.

Sansa went and sat in the middle of the huge sofa and tried to calm her racing heart. She had no idea where the need to tease him came from, but she felt so comfortable with him. She knew she wanted him; badly. That much was more than evident. And she knew she could trust him. The buildup was delicious. The low hum of desire was always present, and it was like it fed a little monster inside her that wanted to see just how far she could push Stannis Baratheon.

Because she knew when the moment came, and he finally had to have her, it would be explosive. She wasn’t sure she would ever recover from being with Stannis; so, she had to be sure that he was right there with her because there wasn’t another person on this planet that made Sansa feel the way that Stannis Baratheon did. And she was worried he could break her heart if all he wanted was a physical relationship. Sansa wasn't built like that; she wanted it all. Love and lust and desire and a partner.

Stannis turned off all the lights in the large room, so it was only the huge projection screen, full surround sound and them.

_This was way better than any movie theatre_, Sansa thought.

When he came to the sofa, he had a soft blanket in his hands and sat right beside her. Sansa squirmed her way closer to him until he draped his arm around her, and she snuggled into his side. When he pulled the blanket around them, Sansa swore they were the only two people in the entire world that mattered, and she sighed contently.

“Comfortable?” He asked quietly, and she turned her face so she could smile at him.

“Perfect,” she said and gave him a quick kiss before turning her head back the screen. She felt his arm tighten around her, and then his whole body relaxed as he tried to focus on the period piece in front of him and not the woman in his arms.

Stannis wondered if this was what it was like for those boys in high school that had the confidence to ask a girl home to watch a movie. Then he thought it couldn’t possibly be like that because there was no way some pimply-faced teenager could feel what he did for Sansa. They didn’t have the emotional depth to know how truly special it was having a woman like Sansa Stark cuddled up against you.

Despite his best intentions to focus on Sansa, Stannis found himself swept up in the remake of Austen’s classic tale. They were halfway through the movie when Sansa slid down and placed her head in his lap, and Stannis let his hand run through her hair which she had unbraided and was a loose waterfall of red down her back. Like a cat, she arched into his touch, and his hand kept up its explorations, until after a while, he looked down and saw that she had fallen asleep

Some men might have been offended but not Stannis. He was delighted that she trusted him and was comfortable with him to do so. He spent long moments just staring at her face, noting how sleep did nothing to detract from her beauty. He wondered if he should wake her and then decided against it. He liked her weight on his lap and his hand in her hair. After a time, he returned to the movie, although reluctantly. He was worried she might quiz him on it if he didn’t pay attention and he’d be embarrassed to tell her he was more focused on her than on the film.

Eventually, he felt her stir as she came awake, and she blinked, twisting and looking around until her eyes collided with his. Then he saw her smile softly and say, “Hi.”

He felt his heart thump faster. He had never been the recipient of someone’s individual attention the way he just was with Sansa. The moment she had woken, she had sought him out and had been happy to find him.

“Hello,” he said, voice a bit rough and filled with wondrous emotion. He let his hand wander down her back. Neither one was paying attention to Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth as they stood in the moors with the morning mists rolling over them and confirmed their feelings for one another.

“What is this Stannis?” Sansa asked so quietly he might have missed it.

He swallowed hard and kept her gaze, never stilling his hand. “I think it might be everything,” he said and saw as she nodded her agreement.

“Alright, as long as I’m not alone,” she said, and he shook his head.

“You are not, Sansa,” he told her. She reached her hand up to cup his cheek and could feel a faint prickle of whiskers on his cheek.

“You’re so handsome,” she said, and he scoffed at her, and she frowned. “I’m serious,” she said and gave him a stern look. “Don’t call me a liar, Mr. Baratheon,” she warned, eyes narrowed.

“Or what?” He asked, and before he knew it, she pushed off the blanket and settled herself on his lap, clasping her hands behind his neck and pressing her lips to his.

“Or else I’ll make you suffer,” she purred and wiggled around on his lap. Stannis just sat there and let her have her way with him, groaning as she ground into him and kissed him slow and deep, working her tongue into his mouth and making his already tenuous control around her, slip just another notch.

“Sansa,” he murmured and tugged on her hair slightly so he could look at her face. “Sansa, you have to stop,” he told her, and she leaned down and nuzzled at his neck.

“Why?” She asked, and he groaned again as she sucked on him, and he felt his cock harden.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to take you on this sofa and then whatever this is between us won’t be slow or soft,” he told her, and he swore he heard her say ok

He clasped her arms and pushed her back slightly, noting that her eyes were filled with lust and some more profound emotion. “Sansa, last night you said to take it slow, and I’m trying my best to respect that, but I am just a man, and you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had in this position,” he told her truthfully.

She sighed. She knew he was right. She wasn’t ready to fall into bed with him quite yet. Almost, but not entirely. They still knew so little about each other, and she didn’t want to ruin anything by rushing into things. Things like sleeping together. They still hadn't even said what this was; just that it was something important to the both of them.

“You’re right,” she said, and he nodded, internally berating himself for being such an honourable man. But he knew that when he finally made love with her, he wanted it to mean something. Hell, he wanted it to mean everything, and despite how much they seemed to like one another, they weren’t quite there yet. He'd never be able to let her go once he had her, he knew that. What he didn't know exactly what she was looking for, or how serious she was willing to be.

He pushed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheeks.

“My gods, you’re beautiful,” he swore softly and saw Sansa blush and smile.

“Thank you,” she told him and kissed him again, only this time it was soft and gentle.

“Come on,” he said and stood them both up. “Off to bed with you,” he told her and then added, “Alone,” and shook his head when she pouted.

Stannis walked her to her door, keeping his hand in hers, and right before she opened it, she turned and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“I’ll be a good girl,” she said, flirting with him and he surpassed another groan. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted Sansa to be a good girl, but he’d given her his promise and Stannis never broke a promise.

“You are a tease,” he said to her and cupped her cheeks and pressed one more, gentle kiss to her lips. “Now go to sleep,” he told her, and she laughed and slipped inside her apartments.

Stannis wandered idly through the castle until he came back to his rooms. When he entered, he knew exactly what he needed and moved quickly to the private space that held his art supplies.

Stannis Baratheon, accomplished novelist, competent horseman, successful businessman and owner of the largest single residence in all of Westeros also had a secret passion. He loved to draw. Sketch, if he were honest, with pencil or charcoals whenever the mood struck. His subjects were mostly Storm’s End itself, or his horses. He’d done one year ago of Davos and Mayra and given it to them on their twentieth wedding anniversary.

It had started when he was a boy and was just one more thing for Robert to mock him for, but Cressen had persisted that he follow his passion. Stannis almost snorted at that. No one outside himself or Cressen or possibly Sansa would ever say that he was a passionate man. But inside, what he had told Sansa this afternoon was true; there was a well of passion just waiting for the right women and the right circumstances. So far, the only passions he’d had in his life were his home, his horses and his art. He was sure that Sansa would be the greatest passion of his entire life; he didn't know if she was looking for the same commitment he was.

Stannis poured himself a drink and took out a fresh sketch pad, and then, letting himself indulge, set out to capture Sansa in that perfect moment from today, under the tree, when she’d told him that the type of man, he was would be the perfect one for her. It was getting harder and harder not to believe that there wasn’t something powerful between them, and while Stannis would have liked nothing more than to follow her into her rooms tonight, this was an excellent second choice. He snorted at that lie. This wasn’t even in the realm of ‘_good second choice_’ when compared to being with her, but it was all he would get tonight. He wasn’t a man to dwell on what he couldn’t have.

He could only look forward, and so, Stannis set to work, to capture a perfect moment with a woman he was afraid he was already in love with, knowing that if he wanted her to be in his life completely, he’d have to eventually expose even this part of himself to her. And knowing how scary that thought was, he pushed it from his mind and concentrated on Sansa Stark and the impossibly romantic day that he had somehow managed to pull off for the two of them.


	6. Lazy Sunday

As lovely as Saturday had been, the notorious weather Storm’s End was known for had rolled in overnight, and when Sansa woke up, she heard the rain against the window. Grinning, she opened the blinds and was greeted to a wet and windy day, which meant that it was the perfect day to snuggle up in the library with a book, a cup of tea and Stannis. She wondered if he would insist on sitting at his desk or if she could convince him to sit beside her on one of the big comfy sofas he had in the library. It was also the perfect day to dive into the chapters he’d given her to edit. She’d done a brief read through but needed to get deep into them today, and she could feel her red pen ready to go. Not that she imagined Stannis made many if any, grammatical mistakes. He was probably overpaying having a professional editor read over his work.

Sansa was humming when she walked into the kitchen. She could tell that Stannis had chosen a seat so that he could see her the moment she entered, and it made her smile. She walked right up to him and leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good morning,” she murmured to him, and before she could pull back, he drew her closer and prolonged the kiss.

“Good morning,” he said, and she saw his eyes lose just a bit of their wariness. It was as if he was expecting her to wake up one morning and not want to be around him. She vowed she would do everything she could to reassure him that she wanted him.

When she settled with her coffee and oats, he asked if she had any plans for the day. She had arrived here a week ago, and she could already read him. She knew there was something on his mind, but once again, he was willing to put her desires first.

“I was hoping to do some reading and some editing,” she said and winked at him. “Honestly, a day like today, I could curl up with a book all day long, and your library is one of my favourite spaces in the entire castle.” She saw his shoulders sag in relief.

She wagged a spoon at him and said contemplatively, “You’re allowed to tell me what you want to do as well, Stannis. I may have started as your guest, but I think we’re beyond that now.”

She saw him process her words, and she appreciated that he thought about what he was going to say before he spoke.

He nodded and said, “You are more than a guest, but whether you’re my guest or my…. companion, it will always be important to me that I take your needs into consideration.”

She thought about that. “That’s fair, as long as you will tell me when there is something you’d like to do. That’s important to me,” she said solemnly, and he nodded.

“I will try, Sansa,” he said seriously. And she knew he would. It was one of the things she liked best about Stannis; if he said he would do something, he would. She could count on him, and that was important to her.

“So, if I wasn’t here, what would you do on a typical rainy Sunday, Stannis?” She asked, sending him a curious look.

He gave her a rueful grin. “Work, or perhaps reading. Probably research. If the weather was nice, a horseback ride or a ride on my motorcycle.” While those were all things Sansa loved, doing them alone just sounded lonely. She was so glad she was here so they could do them together.

She smiled at him and rose to rinse her bowl and cup and then told him she’d meet him in the library. When she made her way there, she had her laptop, the book she’d been reading about Argella in bed each evening to help distract her from thoughts of Stannis, and his four chapters that needed editing. She also had three red pens.

He eyed those with some skepticism and ridicule.

“I do know how to write,” he said dryly. He had eleven best-selling books. This was number twelve. She gave him a soft smile and nodded.

“I know. I’ve read all your books. But…. just in case,” she said and shrugged and then realized he was seated on the sofa and not at his desk. He had his laptop on the small coffee table in front, along with a stack of his books. She felt her heart melt and sat down beside him and leaned into him. He willingly opened his arms and let her get comfortable, and she just took at the moment.

“This is so perfect,” she said, and he had to agree as he let his hand stroke her back and met her gaze.

“Why isn’t there a Mrs. Stannis Baratheon?” Sansa blurted out and then blushed. She felt him stiffen and she cursed herself and tried to pull away before he tightened his grip and brought her back against his side.

“Don’t,” he said and huffed out a breath. Sansa stayed pinned against him and silently breathed herself.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was rude and inappropriate. You don’t have to say anything,” she told him, scrambling to recapture the warm feeling that she had so soundly destroyed.

“No,” he said and ran a hand down his face. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and he could feel the slightly longer whiskers, rough on his face. “It’s a fair question. There’s no good answer, other than I’ve never met anyone I’ve been interested in enough to invest the time in, and no one seemed to want to do the same with me. The best answer is probably mutual disinterest from the variety of potential women I’ve met over the years,” he told her, summing up his lonely existence neatly. He took a chance and gazed at her. “I never wanted to settle, and no one ever met my expectations,” he continued. He paused and gathered his thoughts. “I’m not an easy man, Sansa.”

She held his gaze and cupped his cheek, loving the slightly dishevelled look that him not shaving gave him. She wondered what that roughened face would feel like on her bare skin. “I’m glad,” she said and then blushed red. He arched an eyebrow at that statement and barked out a short laugh.

She hit him lightly on the chest. “I don’t mean it like that, I just mean, well, obviously it would be awful if you had a wife because…” she said and pointed to the fact that she was wound around him like a vine right now. “I’m glad that all the women you’ve ever met were too stupid to see how great you are,” she added and then ducked her head, missing his look of wonder.

He coughed a bit and then said, “And why isn’t there a Mr. Sansa Stark, trailing after you, besotted and holding your books and papers?”

She laughed a bit. “I have rotten luck with men.” He gave her an incredulous look. _How could a woman like her have a problem with men? _He wondered.

She gave him a look. “Do you truly want to know?” She asked, and he nodded. A part of him didn’t want to think about her with anyone, but he did want to know everything about her, which included past relationships.

“In high school, my mom had a strict no dating rule, which, being the good girl, I was, I followed to a T. There was one boy who liked me,” and Stannis snorted at the thought that there was a single boy who liked her. He was sure there was an entire list of boys and men who would kill for a chance with Sansa Stark.

“But he was my brother’s friend, and my mom did not like him.” Sansa thought about Theon then; he’d been bold and brash and cocky, and he’d made her heart race but not always in a good way. More like she never knew if he’d get arrested or do something heroically stupid and get himself hurt, or worse. He was wild, and her mother had been so angry when she’d found out that Sansa had a crush on him. Of course, all that ended when her mother got sick and they had only ever been on a single date.

“After my mom got sick, I just had no time for boys. Then when I was in University at White Harbor, after my mom had passed away, I met a guy. I thought he was nice. He came from a good family, and he was cute. We moved in the same circles.” Sansa sighed. “It took me months to realize he was sleeping with anyone in a skirt. Thank gods we barely slept together,” she said and shuddered thinking of Harry and how he had humiliated her. She regretted that whole relationship, especially because she hadn’t even loved him. She thanked the gods she'd had enough sense to insist he wore a condom the three times they slept together, but still had herself tested when she found out how promiscuous he had been.

“Then there was a brief summer romance with a sweet guy in The Reach before I started my Masters. I knew he wanted more out of our relationship, but I never….” She sighed. “I liked him, but that was all, and I knew that from the beginning. I’m sure many women would have been more than happy to have the heir to the Tyrell fortune in love with them, but I never felt anything more than warm affection for him.” She risked a glance at Stannis. He looked utterly fascinated.

“And that’s it,” she said. “I had some trouble with a professor in the Vale, and I was so busy working on my master’s that I had no time for dating.”

“Hmmm,” was all he said. He couldn’t believe that she’d had only two sort of serious relationships in her life. Her first boyfriend sounded like an utter ass, and the second, well, he almost felt bad for the young man. Stannis knew what it was like to be besotted with Sansa Stark. While he was sure she felt something back for him, he wondered if he too might become a footnote in her dating history.

“Stannis, no,” she said as if she could read his mind. “That is not what this is,” she told him and cupped his face.

“And how do you know what I am thinking?” He asked, brusquely, both hating that he was an open book to her and fascinated by how well she already seemed to know him.

“Because as ridiculous as it might sound, I know you,” she said, and she shimmied up his body to press a kiss to his lips. “I’ve never felt anything like this before in my whole life,” she whispered against his mouth, and he groaned and deepened the kiss.

“Have you?” She asked quietly when he pulled away slightly, keeping her lips close to his so their breath intermingled.

“No,” he said. A single, simple word that meant everything. She leaned in to kiss him again, and he let his hands roam up and down her body, taking a chance and letting his hand come up and cup one of her breasts, where he brushed his hand against her and felt her nipple harden.

“Stannis,” she panted, and he grunted and rested his forehead against hers. She was half-sitting on him, and he still had her delightful breast in his hand, and he didn’t know if he could stop if they did anything more.

“I can’t,” he started to say. “I can’t go further if this doesn’t mean more than just sex to you, Sansa,” he told her, letting himself be utterly vulnerable to her

“Oh, thank gods. It isn’t just sex to me either,” she whispered against him and kissed him again. “You can break my heart, Stannis. Utterly crush it if I’m just some fling to you,” she said, her voice taking on an almost desperate tone.

“I am not the type of man who has _flings_,” he said forcefully, trying to forget about his two empty one-night stands.

“So, what is this? A relationship?” She asked, hating that she needed a label but knowing that it was something that she needed before she could go further with him. She trusted Stannis, but she had never been in a position to have her heart broken the way she thought he might be able to and she had to admit it scared her as much as it excited her. Sansa wanted a great love. She wanted the big sweeping romance that she’d dreamed about as a girl. And she thought this was the man that could give that to her.

“This,” he said and kissed her hard and deep, “This means you’re mine. If we take that next step, I won’t let you go, Sansa. Not now that I’ve found you,” he almost growled at her, and she felt swell of love and need flood through her.

“Oh yes please,” she said, almost panting as she wiggled on him and then cupped his cheeks and held his gaze. “I won’t let you go either,” she said. “You’d be mine as well.” She saw his eyes darken with her words of possession

Neither one of them had ever belonged to anyone else before. Not like this. If they were honest, they’d known since that first meeting that everything had been leading to this. They had both felt the pull towards each other, unable to stop it from happening.

He rested his forehead on hers once again, and she let herself be cradled in his arms. He stroked her back, and she felt her breathing slow.

“How can I feel so much for you?” He muttered, utterly undone by the emotion that was coursing through his body.

“You’re not alone,” she told him, and he grunted at that. Then his blue eyes came up to pin hers.

“I want you,” he said and then grimaced at the obviousness of that statement. “But I don’t want to do this in a rush. I want to take you on a proper date, and I want to watch you enjoy yourself. I want to see everyone look at me with envy that you are on my arm. And then I want us to come home, to Storm’s End, knowing that we are going to spend the night together. I want it to be special, Sansa. And not just because we are caught up in it all,” Stannis told her, cupping her cheeks while another hand ran through her hair.

Sansa knew that this was the moment she would be able to tell anyone who asked her that she fell totally and irreversibly in love with Stannis Baratheon.

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” she said and saw him relax at her acceptance of his plan. How on earth could he think he wasn’t romantic? It was the single most romantic way a man had ever told her that he wanted to be with her and that she meant something more to him than just getting her into his bed. He cupped her face and let his eyes settle on hers.

“Are you free next Friday night, Ms. Stark?” Stannis asked her formally, and she grinned and nodded.

“I do believe I am, Mr. Baratheon,” she said to him, and a huge smile lit her face, and she kissed him but kept it light and comfortable.

“Off you go,” he said ruefully, and she grinned and cuddled into the other side of the sofa and picked up her red pen, his book chapters and the clipboard she had pinned them too. She sent him a stern look.

“No peaking and no distracting me,” she told him, and he held up his hands and picked up his book. Soon enough though, Sansa stretched out her long legs and let them rest in his lap, and he idly stroked her calf as they both got lost in their respective worlds.

Stannis’s mind was not on the book in front of him; he was going over what type of date he should take Sansa on. It has to be spectacular, to live up to the inevitable conclusion they both desperately wanted. And he wanted it to be something truly breathtaking, to show her that he was capable of being that type of man when the occasion called for it. He went over their conversation and then realized he’d called Storm’s End home for the both of them and she hadn’t corrected him. He wondered if it was because it was her temporary lodging, or if it was because she was starting to see it as a place where she might make her home with him. Stannis wasn’t an idiot. He already knew he wanted everything with her; the rings, the white dress. Children. A family. He wanted Sansa to be his family and everything that entailed.

He doubted there was another woman on this planet that could make him feel this way. Indeed, there hadn’t been one up until his point in his life. Sansa Stark was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he already felt that wave of possession and jealousy at the thought of her with anyone else wash over him. Then he reminded himself she said he was hers as well, and he settled again. When he finally allowed himself to look up from his book, he saw her worrying a part of her lip and tapping her infamous red pen against the chapters he’d given her to edit.

“What is it, Sansa?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She gave him an enigmatic look. “I wonder if it’s a good idea that I edit these chapters,” she said after a moment, and his eyes widened and then narrowed. She saw at once he had misinterpreted her words, and she held up a hand to forestall him from getting the wrong idea.

“You are an amazing author, Stannis. I probably have no business suggesting anything to you at all,” she explained, and he relaxed and then she continued. “After all, I’ve published three papers at my old University, and that’s all.”

He motioned for her to come closer, and she hurried over, and he looked at what she had written. Sure, enough there were few actual grammatical corrections on the page. Stannis was not a man that made mistakes like that. But he saw that she had flipped a page and had started to write a series of questions. He read them and frowned, and she worried her lip as she was wont to do.

She went to grab the paper from his hand, and he stilled it and looked at her.

“Can you explain why I should answer these questions?” He asked her, and she shrugged. He gave her a look that she’d come to think of as _Pure Stannis_. She huffed out a breath and waved a hand.

“Everything you’ve written is technically and historically accurate. But… something is missing," she said and saw him frown. She was in too deep now, so she took a breath and continued to speak. "Why? Why was the North allowed their independence? Why did they choose a cripple boy from the North with no experience to rule the six kingdoms? Why did the Iron Islands and Dorne, two kingdoms that always wanted independence not also chose to leave? Why have six Kingdoms? Why not go back to how things were before the Targaryen’s invaded?”

His brows were still drawn together as he thought about her words. He had captured the events at the end of the war as they had been presented and written down in all the first-person accounts. Nothing he had written was technically incorrect. A historian could never speculate, only write from the documents they had at their disposal. Sansa knew this as she was a trained historian.

Sansa could see him struggling, and she grabbed his hand. “Take this Queen in the North.” She found it ironic that they were discussing the very woman her father had named her after, but none the less she continued to speak. “By all accounts, she had a horrible second marriage and was abused by her husband. And yet somehow, she found a way to make the North the only independent Kingdom in over three hundred years. Why? Why did she want that? Her brother was King. Surely, she could have trusted him. So why did she push for that?” Sansa squeezed his hand. “Your work is brilliant; it was just when I was reading it, I wanted to know more about the people; their motivations, their reasons, their dreams and desires,” she said, and he smiled softly at her.

“I see your point. I’m not sure there is source material that talks about any of that, and some of that might be pure speculation,” he said and gave her a look when he could see she was going to interrupt. “But I can see how it would add to the story,” he said and kissed her gently. “Thank you,” he said. His editor read his work because he paid her, and his agent might read his work because he made him money, but Sansa was the only person who had ever been as passionate about his writing as he was. It warmed something in him that she cared as much as he did about their past.

He stood up then and held his hand. “Come on, lazy bones, go put on your boots and jacket and let’s go for a walk,” he said to her, and she smiled.

“Can we visit the horses?” She asked eagerly, and he nodded and held her hand as they left the room, their books, papers, and laptops co-mingled and tangled together, much like they were starting to become. Stannis had always lived a very neat and orderly life, but he was beginning to discover that he liked how Sansa Stark added just the right amount of disruption to his orderly life. He could see a lifetime of Sundays spent like this, and he vowed to himself that he would make their date on Friday night one that neither one of them would ever forget.


	7. Making Plans

Sansa had forgotten that Cressen was back on Monday morning, so when she entered the kitchen, she immediately walked up to Stannis as she had the past two mornings and went to kiss him. She felt him stiffen and she pulled back a bit and gave him a confused look. He coughed slightly, and Sansa spun around to see Cressen standing at the counter grinning at them. When she looked back to Stannis, she could see that he was uncomfortable and seemed to be almost embarrassed by her behaviour.

Sansa didn’t know what to do. She thought they had said that they were in a relationship, and that meant touching each other and kissing each other and showing affection. She didn't think they were a secret. At least in her world that is what it meant. It wasn’t like they were in public; this was Stannis’s home, and she wasn’t doing anything wrong or lewd. Sansa straightened and stiffened her spine and spun around.

“Welcome back, Cressen,” she said, giving him a tight, small smile and turned and walked out of the room, not even bothering to get her breakfast.

“Fuck,” Stannis swore and rubbed a hand down his face after she had left. He didn’t know why he’d reacted the way he had. He’d all but forgotten they wouldn’t be alone today, and Cressen had come into the kitchen just before Sansa. He hadn’t even had a moment to speak with the man who was more a father to him than his biological one had ever been before Sansa was just there; beautiful, radiant and happy to see him. He cursed himself again for reacting the way he had.

“Why are you still here?” Cressen said, giving him a look as if to say he was the stupidest man on earth to let her get away.

“Ummm,” Stannis mumbled, for once at a loss for words. “I thought you might want to talk about it. Her. Us. I mean…” Stannis was at a loss for words, and it was an uncomfortable feeling for him.

“It’s not me you need to talk with, boy,” Cressen said and pinned him with a look.

Stannis looked to the doorway where Sansa had just walked out of.

“Stannis, you’re a grown man. You don’t need my permission or approval. But if you want it, you had it the moment that girl stepped foot on this property. You’d be a god damn fool to let her get away,” Cressen said, and Stannis stood up abruptly. Before he left the kitchen, he turned back and arched an eyebrow at Cressen.

“You knew?” He asked, and Cressen laughed.

“I took one look at her and knew you’d be a goner, boy,” he said and winked at him.

Stannis frowned. “Tell me, did you and Davos have a bet?”

Cressen’s grin grew. “You bet your arse we had a bet. And I won. Knew you’d kiss her by the time the weekend was over. Davos said it’d take you a month, but I know you.” Cressen walked up to Stannis and cupped his face. “She’s the one Stannis. Don’t mess this up.”

Stannis nodded again and then strode from the room. In truth, he had no issue with how affectionate Sansa was; he craved it. He had been a man that had been alone for so much of his life, and in one short weekend, he’d come to love Sansa’s little touches. She was always kissing him, holding his hand, stroking his neck or arm. It had just been a moment in the kitchen, and he wished he could take it back. When he got to her rooms, he knocked softly on the door and could hear her moving around. He wondered if she would ignore him, and he was just about to leave when she opened the door. Her face was guarded and closed off and Stannis swore at himself.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and she nodded and stepped aside so he could come in. He hadn’t given much thought to where Cressen had put her in the Castle, but he could see in the short time she’d been here; Sansa had made the space hers. He stood awkwardly in the main living space as Sansa sunk into the one chair that was there. She didn’t even offer him a seat, a clear sign that she was not happy with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she just looked at him. She would not make this easy for him. He’d hurt and humiliated her, and she wanted to know why.

“Why?” She asked.

He sighed and looked around and saw the sofa and sat on one edge. He scrubbed a hand down his face and looked at her.

“I told you I am not experienced in relationships, Sansa,” Stannis tried to explain.

“Are you embarrassed by me?” She asked in a small voice.

He shook his head. “No, of course not. I had forgotten about Cressen even being back, and then he was there and so were you, and I’ve never been in the type of relationship where the person wants to be affectionate with me. Especially in front of other people,” Stannis said, and Sansa cocked her head at that.

“But it’s Cressen. He’s your family Stannis,” Sansa said, still confused. He sighed.

“I know, but…” He got up and paced a bit in the small room. “I not good at this Sansa. I told you that,” he said almost desperately. “What if we were around your family?” He asked, and she gave him a confused look. She stood then and came over to him, and he opened his arms, and she walked into them, feeling them band around her.

“Well, Stannis,” she said and leaned up to kiss his cheek, “If we were around my family, I would expect that they would have to get used to seeing me kiss you.”

He grunted. “Even your father, Sansa? Have you said anything to him about us?” He asked and saw her frown

“Well, no but, this just started, and we aren’t at Winterfell,” she said and then looked at him again. “Do you want me to speak to my father about us, Stannis? Because I will,” she told him, and he saw the truth in her eyes.

The reality was, Stannis had put other people from his mind when it had come to him and Sansa. For a whole weekend, it was just them, and he’d loved it. He hadn’t had to deal or think about anyone else but the two of them. And now they were being confronted with some very real questions about their brand-new relationship. He was too old to call her his girlfriend; it sounded juvenile and silly to his ears. But she was more than a companion or fling. She was Sansa. And when it had been the two of them, he could allow himself to get swept up in the romance of it all. Now he was confronted with the reality that Ned Stark might not look too kindly on his friend who was twenty-two years older than his daughter, being in a relationship with her. Stannis had been quiet for so long; Sansa was starting to worry.

“Are you still wanting to be with me, Stannis?” She asked, and her voice was quiet and worried.

That made Stannis’s heart clench. No matter how upset Ned may be with him, Stannis wanted to be with Sansa.

“Of course, I do, Sansa,” he said and cupped her cheeks. “I just hadn’t thought about all the implications and about what others might think. This weekend was perfect; it was you and me. And although I’m a private man, even I have to interact with others from time to time,” he said a bit ruefully.

“Is Cressen upset about us? Does he not like me?” Sansa asked, her voice still small and quiet.

Stannis laughed then. A full, sincere laugh. “Gods no, Sansa. Nothing like that. He thinks I’m an idiot and told me not to mess this up. He’s ready never to let you leave Storm’s End,” he told her, and he saw the smile that he loved, light her face.

“I think we need to tell my Dad, Stannis. And let us do it together,” she told him earnestly. “I won’t let anyone tell me who I can and can’t be with, but he’s important to me, and I’d hate for him to find out from someone else and be hurt. And I want him to see that we are serious about each other; that this isn’t just some fling,” Sansa said, and Stannis nodded. “This isn’t some fling, right?”

“No, Sansa, it isn’t,” he told her, and she let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m still not good at relationships, Sansa,” Stannis told her, and she nodded solemnly. “And I’m bound to make more mistakes. But you can’t just leave like that. You have to give me a chance, or tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he told her, and she agreed. She saw how leaving as she did had made the situation worse.

“Will you please come back to the kitchen to eat some breakfast?” He said, his tone one of mild exasperation. “We can figure out how to upset your father later,” he told her, and she gave him a small smile.

“He won’t be that upset, Stannis,” she told him. “At least, I don’t think he will be. I think he mostly wants me to be happy.”

“And you think I’m the person that can make you happy?” Stannis asked her, and she leaned up to kiss him.

“I’m counting on it,” she said and took his hand so they could go to the kitchen. Together. When they walked in, holding hands, Cressen barely glanced up at them. He was working on a crossword puzzle from the Saturday paper that Stannis always saved for him

When he finally took off his glasses and looked towards them, he shook his head at their antics and muttered about kids these days under his breath. Then he walked up to Sansa and cupped her face. “Don’t give up on him, my dear,” he said and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He leaned in and whispered, “Welcome to the family, Sansa,” and Sansa hugged him hard, his frail shoulders shaking a bit with happiness.

Cressen loved Stannis best of all the Baratheon boys, and it had always been that way. Stannis had needed him the most, and Cressen had always been there for him. Stannis was as much his son as he’d been Steffen’s and Cressen had waited his entire life for Stannis to find someone who was worth him finally. Cressen knew that Sansa Stark was worth it. Now if these two could only get together sooner rather than later and give him some grandchildren before he was dead, he’d have everything he’s ever wanted for himself and his surrogate son.

Stannis sat back down and watched as Sansa went about making her usual breakfast. He frowned when he thought that since that first day, he hadn’t seen her eat anything else. He asked her why when she took her regular seat across from him.

She shrugged. “It’s cold in Winterfell, and it was one of the first things my Mom taught me how to make. Each morning I was so proud I could get my breakfast. A habit I guess, and it keeps me full for a long time. And it reminds me of her.”

Stannis nodded and then wondered about Catelyn Stark. Sansa seemed comfortable enough speaking about her, but he knew what it was like to lose a beloved parent. They had both lost family around the same age, as best as he could tell, and it was just one more thing they had in common

Today when they retreated to the library, Stannis took his seat at his desk, and Sansa was at the table in the far corner. She was typing away on her laptop, and he envied her topic for once.

Stannis was at a crossroads with his book. Did he take her advice and stall his book to do more research? Or did he press ahead and continue writing the dry, dull, historically accurate story he had meticulously outlined.

The problem was, he had no idea where he might come up with source material from so long ago. As far as he knew, the Winterfell Manor that Ned Stark lived in was only a piece of the previous Castle; much of the original structure had been lost over the years. And Bran the Broken, as they had called him had ruled in Kings Landing. It might be worth a trip there to search through the National Archives; between that and the Citadel, there may be some source material from that time that he had missed. The problem was the wars had devastated the Kingdom during that time frame, and there were approximately thirty years from the time that his ancestor, Robert had started his rebellion until the peace that had finally come about after the civil wars that had devastated Westeros and so much had been lost. Kings Landing itself had been set on fire by the Mad Queen Daenerys Targaryen using a substance they called wildfire, so any records from that time had no guarantee of existing. A Lannister had been named Hand of the King, so there might have been something preserved at Casterly Rock, and it was still mostly intact. The scope of what he was attempting to do was slightly daunting; it took his project from a mere recitation of the facts to a full-on investigation into motivations and the people of the time. Stannis could already see that if he found any more source material, he would have to make this a multi-part series of books and he’d never done anything like that in his life. And he’d have to travel. To Winterfell, the Rock, the Citadel and Kings Landing. Hell, he might even need to go to the Reach; Highgarden was still a standing Castle, and if Sansa knew the heir to Highgarden as she said she did, she might even be able to get them access to family records. He grimaced at that thought; he would save that until the bitter end if he did decide on this course of action. When he looked up from his musings, he saw Sansa was looking at him

“So, what have you decided?” She asked him.

“It would be a massive undertaking, to go in the direction that you suggested,” he said and held her gaze. She said nothing. This had to be his decision. “And it would require travel to all parts of Westeros, scouring libraries and old Castles and any remaining manor homes to track down any scraps of information from that time,” he said to her and could swear he saw the excitement in her eyes.

That’s when he realized that if he did want to do this, he wouldn’t have to do it alone. Sansa seemed to be more than willing, and she was undoubtedly a capable partner in such an endeavour. Money was no factor; Stannis was so wealthy that such travel was no barrier. He thought for a moment what it might be like to go on such an adventure with her by his side. He knew she had her thesis work, but she had confirmed she had more than enough source work and it was now reading, research and writing. She didn’t have to find the materials because they were all at Storm’s End for her. He got a thrill of excitement, thinking about going to each of these places for a few days and then coming back here, coming home to Storm’s End with her. It was almost like a treasure hunt; there was no guarantee that he would find anything, and his publisher would have a fit if he delayed his book. But he knew at that moment that if Sansa were game, then he would do it.

“How would you feel about helping me, Sansa?” He asked, and he saw her eyes light.

“What do you have in mind?” She asked, and he told her everything he had just thought about and watched as her face broke out into a huge grin. Before she could launch herself into his arms, he held up a hand and gave her a stern look. “I will not have this interfere with your work,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at him and came to lean over his chair.

“Stannis, I’m a big girl,” she said, her voice low and seductive and he felt his cock twitch and his heart race. “I know what I can and can’t handle. And right now, you’ve just offered me, a history nerd and lover of old Castles, the perfect adventure in the entire world,” she said and leaned down and kissed him. “I say, yes. A thousand times yes,” she said and smiled at him and kissed him again.

He brought his hands up and carded them through her hair to keep her lips pinned to his. He wasn’t sure who moaned as they deepened the kiss, and he dragged her on to his lap, confident that this wasn’t part of his plan to take things slow. He had just worked for a hand up and under her blouse when a cough sounded at the doorway and Cressen stood there with a bemused look on his face at the two of them. They reluctantly broke their kiss, but Sansa made no attempt to move off of Stannis’s lap, and she turned to grin at the elderly fellow.

“Lunch, if you two are doing smacking each other’s lips, is ready,” he said and turned and went back towards the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to Stannis and Sansa, he had snapped a picture and sent it to Davos, who had demanded more details the moment Cressen had texted him this morning. Stannis had insisted on the iPhone for Cressen so he could always text or call no matter where he was in the Castle, and he’d taken to it like a duck to water.

DS: They’ll be giving us grandchildren within the year if this keeps up.

C: About time.

Right before they walked into the kitchen, Sansa leaned in and said to Stannis, “Don’t apologize.”

He gave her a condescending look, and she gave it right back. “As if you weren’t thinking about it,” she muttered, and he shocked her by swatting her on the ass. Lightly.

“Naughty girls can be punished, Sansa,” he murmured into her ear, and she felt the heat rocket through her body and groaned, knowing he’d done it on purpose as they rounded the corner and came into view of Stannis’s surrogate father.</p><p>

"Stannis," she moaned, and he swore he'd do whatever it took to hear her say his name like that when his cock was buried deep inside her.

“Ah, young love,” he said dramatically and batted his eyes at them, and they both blushed but didn’t deny their feelings.

Over lunch, Stannis updated Cressen on his book, and he looked impressed. He was a learned man and had initially been hired years ago to oversee Steffen’s education at Storm’s End when he was himself a young man. He spoke multiple languages and had three degrees in different disciplines.

“I’m impressed,” he stated, “With the both of you. Your styles, while different, are complimentary, and they ensure your subject is fleshed out fully. It’s about time you spent more time on a book than just the bare facts, Stannis. And you’d do well to remember Stannis’s dedication to a tight and linear outline when writing your thesis, Sansa,” he told them both. They nodded at him and knew he was correct.

“The problem is, where to start?” Stannis said out loud, trying not to be daunted by the task he had just set himself.

“Winterfell,” Sansa said immediately, and he looked at her.

“Are there records there?” He asked, and she nodded.

“I believe my father has worked hard over the years to find whatever remained in the North. He’s even gone so far as to attend estate sales to buy any old books or artifacts that come for sale. Few people care about the past as much as my father, and he thinks it’s his mission, being a Stark and all, to preserve the history of the North.”

Stannis held Sansa’s gaze, silently asking her if she were ready to take that next step. It had only been a few days since they had started this.

She got up and came over to his chair, and he pushed him back from the table so she could lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“It’s the most logical place to start. And when we’re there we can tell my Dad about us,” she said, rising to leave. Stannis tugged her back so she could sit in his lap. It was silly; there were six other chairs, but he liked having her close to him.

“And if he’s upset?” Stannis asked, and she could see the worry in his eyes.

Sansa bit her lip and then straightened her spine.

“I love my Dad, but I won’t let anyone tell me who I can and can’t be with, Stannis,” she said with conviction

“Alright. Then perhaps we should phone him and ask him if he does have such records, Sansa, to start with. And yes, will tell him about us, together,” Stannis said, and she nodded. She liked that idea. They would tell her Dad they were together when they saw him.

He cupped a cheek and stroked softly, and Sansa leaned into his touch. “When would you be able to go?” He asked her. Now that Stannis had decided on the course of his book, he was eager to get started.

“Anytime,” she said grinning. She couldn’t believe how fast this had all come together, but the thought of going on a treasure hunt for historical records through Westeros with Stannis had Sansa practically giddy with excitement.

“Next week?” He asked, and Sansa agreed. He wanted nothing to distract him this week. He had the perfect date to plan for Friday night. And hopefully a full weekend of Sansa in his bed ahead of them.

Stannis knew the moment their date happened; a line would be crossed in their relationship. He didn’t need Ned Stark’s approval, but he was reluctant to think about what would happen if he and Sansa slept together and then Ned found out after the fact that they were a couple. This wasn’t a fling or something casual, and Stannis would give it, and her, the respect they deserved. If they were at Winterfell next week, there was no way Ned could find out about them from someone with ill intentions.

“Let me call him,” Sansa said and kissed him again before she left the kitchen with her phone in her hand.

When she was gone, Cressen grinned at Stannis. He could practically see the wedding already taking form, and he was impressed with how Sansa seemed to get Stannis out of his very comfortable rut.

“She’s a marvellous creature,” Cressen said, and Stannis grunted. He could practically see the wheels turning in Cressen’s head, and though they were in his as well, he wouldn’t give voice to the old man’s suspicions.

Soon enough, Sansa was back, and she had a massive grin on her face.

“Good news! He says he has boxes and boxes of materials. And we’re welcome to come to and look anytime we’d like,” she said.

Stannis felt something warm at the use of the _we _pronoun. He’d never had that applied to him with a woman before and it felt…. nice. Very, very nice.

Stannis rose and enfolded her in his arms and brushed back her hair that had escaped her braid. “So next week isn’t too soon?” He asked, and her eyes popped open.

“What about flights?” she asked, almost breathless.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I have my jet, Sansa.” He watched the shock cross her face, and he smirked. She honestly seemed to have no idea how much money Stannis had, or how much is required to maintain a place such as Storm’s End, which made Stannis happy. His entire life he’d felt that women were only interested in him due to his wealth. Not until Sansa had anyone seemed to like him for him.

“Oh,” was all she said and then let out a little smile. “It’s not too much trouble to arrange all this?” She said, and he shook his head solemnly at her, secretly delighted by her.

“No, it’s not too much trouble,” he said, then he leaned down lower. “And I promise to have us back in time for our weekends no matter where we visit. So, we can be alone,” he murmured in her ear, and Sansa felt the butterflies in her stomach. He sucked her ear for a bit, and she let out a small moan that had Stannis respond in kind. She could hardly wait to have the entire Castle to themselves.

“Alright,” she said softly and gave him a look that was almost filled with wonder.

Caught up in each other, neither paid attention to Cressen, who was happily smiling to himself and trying to decide where would be the best place in the Castle to hold a wedding reception.


	8. The Date

Sansa had never anticipated a date as much in her entire life as the one she was currently preparing for right now. It had seemed like the week would never end, and yet at the same time, it had been one of the best weeks of her whole life.

Stannis had finally become comfortable in their displays of affection, so by the time that Davos and Mayra arrived back at Storm's End on Wednesday, he didn't become uncomfortable when she kissed him good morning or held his hand when they walked the grounds each day after lunch. Cressen was delightful, and he was a veritable font of information on Stannis growing up and was more than willing to share funny stories with Sansa each night at dinner.

Sansa enjoyed preparing meals for the three of them, and that first evening had admonished Cressen when he had tried to tell her to take a seat. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, "I thought you said I was family," to him, and he nodded. "Then let me take care of dinner," she said, and he nodded, pleased that she thought of them the same way.

Stannis would often come and offer to help, and Sansa always had task or two for him while Cressen told embarrassing story after embarrassing story much to Stannis's chagrin.

Sansa cupped his cheek when he frowned at one such story and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Don't worry, darling, I'm sure my family will inundate you with tales of my exploits when we are at Winterfell," she told him and then she looked uncertain. She tried to dart away, but Stannis held her to his side and pressed a kiss back to her lips.

"I like that," he said, referring to the endearment she had let slip from her lips. She blushed, momentarily embarrassed until she saw the truth in his eyes.

"Stannis," she said, almost breathless.

"Yes, darling," he murmured into her ear, and she thought she might combust from the sheer amount of desire that poured through her body. His voice ought to be illegal, she thought.

It was fascinating to watch Stannis become more and more comfortable with her and Cressen and himself together. Most evenings, Sansa and Stannis would retreat to the library and curl up together on the sofa that had become theirs. Workdays were spent at their respective desks, but the evenings were spent together, cuddled up, touching, kissing. More than one hot and heavy make-out session had happened on that sofa. Part of their evenings was spent planning their upcoming trips around Westeros and what Stannis had come to term speculating about the motivations of people that had been dead for hundreds of years. Sansa loved it, and she could tell, he did as well. They pulled up information on the web about the Castles of Westeros and learned a fair number still existed and looked to see how accessible some of them were.

Stannis had a massive battle with his agent and publisher on Tuesday when he'd told them the book was on hiatus, indefinitely. Stannis Baratheon had been a publishing machine for them, churning out eleven books in just over twenty years, all of them bestsellers. When he got off the phone with them after a particularly nasty call, Sansa was frowning.

"What?" He asked, worried he'd done something to upset her.

"They're using you," she said, still frowning, and he startled a bit.

"We use each other," he said. She shook her head.

"You're the talent, Stannis. What you are asking for is not unreasonable," she said unequivocally, his staunchest defender. He left his desk to come over to her where she was seated on the sofa, and he cupped her face and kissed her.

"You're a wonder," he said to her and was delighted when she blushed, taking a seat beside her.

"Well, it's true," she huffed. "They should treat you better, Stannis." He kissed her again and felt her cuddle into his side.

When Davos and Mayra arrived home, they teased the new couple that first morning but stopped when they saw that Stannis was still adjusting. Sansa got a bit upset with them when she would see he was uncomfortable, and she gently admonished them.

Davos's bushy eyebrows winged up at the reproach, and he apologized to both of them, but he was delighted that Sansa had established herself in _Camp Stannis_. To his way of thinking, Stannis needed a woman that was willing to defend him. Stannis was a loyal man, and it seemed that he had finally met his match in Sansa Stark. Davos watched as Stannis drew her to his side, making them a couple. Davos was tickled by both of them.

Sansa spent the entire week trying to figure out what Stannis had planned for their date on Friday night. She would have been fine if he had arranged for something even at Storm's End, but he would give nothing away except to say to dress formally and to be ready for late afternoon.

"How formal?" She asked eyes narrowed on him.

He shook his head and gave her a look but wouldn't budge. Sansa had stuck out that delightfully plump bottom lip of hers when he wouldn't reveal where they were going.

"Stop pouting," he said to her, but to himself, all he could think about was what he might do to that lips when he didn't have to stop.

As it was, Mayra, Davos and Cressen had walked in on them more than once in a compromising position. Funnily enough, everyone seemed to take an excessive amount of pride, catching them kissing. Stannis thought their behaviour to be quite juvenile.

"Suit or tuxedo?" She asked, relentless, and he finally relented and said, "Suit."

She smiled at that and was glad that she had packed everything when she came here. She knew she had several dresses that might suit the occasion. Then she thought about that. She had packed… well… everything. There were some odds and ends, some things she hadn't even had with her in the Vale, but by and large, Sansa had shipped and sent everything to Storm's End. She smiled at that thought. Her entire life was here. With Stannis, in his extraordinary home.

Sansa told Stannis after breakfast that morning that she wasn't going to the library today, and he frowned slightly and then nodded before he left the room. Once he was gone, Sansa jumped up and grabbed Mayra's arm.

"I need your help," she said, almost desperately and Mayra laughed and gave her a quick hug.

"Oh, of course, my dear, what with?" She asked, and Sansa gave her a look.

"What I should wear tonight," Sansa said, dragging the older woman to her rooms. Once there, Mayra made herself a cup of tea and settled in to help her girl out. Because make no mistake, Sansa was family.

Mayra didn't know what Stannis had planned tonight; no one did. He'd let nothing slip so all Mayra could go on was what Sansa looked the best in. The woman was a knockout, and anything she wore would look great on her. But Mayra knew Stannis, and this was a chance for Sansa to take his breath away. Some might think that meant something tasteful and somewhat conservative. Sansa thought so as well, because the first dress, well lovely, was too safe. Sansa looked beautiful in the black three-quarter length sheath dress, but it wasn't a knockout. It wasn't first date material. The next three dresses were more of the same. Finally, Mayra stood and said, "Let's see this wardrobe of yours."

Sansa huffed out a sigh and let her to her closet, where Mayra flicked through the genuinely incredible amount of clothing that Sansa had with her here. "Is this all your clothing?" She asked, and Sansa nodded.

She kept looking until she came to a dress that was bright pink and was hardly more than a scrap of fabric. "This," Mayra said, holding the dress to Sansa. Her eyes bugged out. She knew she looked amazing in the hot pink silky dress, but she'd worn it for a charity fashion show, and it showed a mile of leg.

"Are you serious?" She said, and Mayra cupped her cheek.

"Trust me, dear," Mayra said and shooed Sansa into the bathroom to change.

When Sansa stepped out, she knew that Mayra had been right. It should look awful with her bright hair, but her pale skin was the perfect canvas for the stunning dress. It draped her slim form, two thin straps holding up the gown, each strap a slightly different length so that the dress dropped asymmetrically over her breasts before a knot in the center drew a person's eye down to the short skirt that left her long legs bare.

Mayra's eyes sparkled. This was a dress meant to wow a man, and a man like Stannis needed to be wowed.

"Please tell me you have shoes that go with that," Mayra said, and Sansa nodded, giddy looking at herself in the mirror. She would bet money that Stannis's eyes would pop out of his head when he saw her in a few hours. She hugged Mayra and thanked her profusely before the woman took her leave, and Sansa went to work to remove every single stray hair she could find on her body, except those on her head.

They both knew where this night was leading, and Sansa was ready. She was prepared for everything with Stannis. The Castle would once again be theirs for the whole weekend, and Sansa was hoping that a significant portion of that weekend would be spent in either her bed or his. Sansa shaved and scrubbed and soaked. She rubbed her favourite scented lotion on her body, all over her body, and took her time, drying and curling her hair and then applying makeup that looked artfully natural. She finally slid a tiny white lacy thong on and a matching white lacy, backless bra. Somehow, she knew that Stannis would appreciate the colour. They both knew she'd had two past relationships, but it never hurt to do a little self-promotion; she wasn't an experienced woman when it came to men. Sansa knew the virgin white color after wearing the racy hot pink dress would drive him wild. When she slipped the dress on, and paired it with nude stiletto sandals, Sansa knew she had never looked better. Once last swipe of lip gloss, which she tucked into a tiny nude-coloured purse and she grabbed a black jacket that she slung over her arm. She'd kept her jewelry minimal, simple diamond studs and a single diamond on a delicate chain around her neck. The dress was the star tonight.

When she walked down the stairs, she saw Stannis waiting in the lobby, as he had been a week ago. Only this time, he was dressed in a designer suit that probably cost more than some people made in a year. Stannis had chosen a black suit and paired it with a black shirt and no tie, which suited Sansa just fine. While he was formal, the lack of tie paired well with the choice of Sansa's dress.

Stannis stood still as possible when he caught Sansa out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch her fully descend the stairs. He was sure his eyes were going to fall out of his face. She was stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her legs were miles long, and the hot pink dress would ensure that every single eye was on her. He couldn't imagine a single reason why a woman like her would want to be with him. He knew the moment that she saw him because, despite his doubts, her entire face lit up.

She continued down the stairs and walked straight towards him. Stannis simply waited for her.

"Hi," she said softly and smiled, her heels making her almost as tall as him

"Hi," he said and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "I have no words for how beautiful you are," he told her, and she blushed and thanked him.

"I love your suit," she said, and he nodded and then offered her his arm, still a bit stunned by her. She willingly took it, and he led her to his car that was waiting in the yard. Once he was in the driver's seat, Stannis reached across and grabbed her hand and gave her one of those small smiles she'd come to cherish. He drove them to a small airstrip just outside Storm's End, and Sansa raised her eyebrows at him. He said nothing as they approached the waiting helicopter.

"Seriously?" She said, and he finally grinned at her.

Once parked, he came around and opened the door and offered her his hand, and she rose, elegant and graceful. Before they could climb aboard, he drew her closer to him and cupped her face before he leaned down and kissed her, low and deep, letting the heat and desire build until Sansa moaned and pressed herself against him.

"Sansa," he said her name almost reverently, tracing a finger down her face

"Stannis," she said his name with just as much awe.

When they'd finished looking in each other's eyes, Stannis took her by the hand, and they climbed aboard the helicopter. Stannis handed her a seat of headphones, grateful that her hair was down, so they didn't ruin hours of work. She grinned as she put them on, and he did the same thing, and then reached over and flicked a switch on the side so they could speak to one another.

Within moments they were airborne and headed back towards Storm's End, the sun not quite set, so the entire coast was bathed in yellows, pinks and reds.

Sansa gasped Stannis's hand as he pointed out various landmarks and proudly showed off the Castle. The center drum tower was even more massive than Sansa could have imagine. She loved having a different view of the Castle she'd come to love. A castle she loved as much as she suspected she loved the man sitting beside her.

The pride he felt in his home was clear, but it wasn't boastful, just the truth. He'd worked hard to secure his family's legacy, and Sansa squeezed his hand.

Eventually the helicopter turned in from the coast only as the sun set below the sea. Already this would have been the best date Sansa had ever had if they returned to Storm's End, but Stannis told her he hoped she was hungry and she nodded, happy to sit back and hold his hand as they made their way to Summerhall

When they landed, another car was waiting for them, and Sansa and Stannis slid in and drove to an elegant restaurant where once again, Stannis drew Sansa's hand from the vehicle and passed his keys to the valet. Everything was smooth and spoke wealth, power and influence. It was such a different picture from the man that Sansa had come to know over the past few weeks. At Storm's End, he could often be seen in his Bloodstone boots if the weather was dry or his Wellies if it was wet, wearing sturdy pants and rough canvas jacket. In the library he was often in business casual clothes, but nothing to this level. This was a reminder that Stannis Baratheon was not merely a history nerd sitting in his spectacular house. He was also a very successful businessman and a powerful man in his own right. Sansa felt herself even more drawn to him; not because she craved his wealth, but that he was willing to show her this other side of his life. She realized then that if she wanted to be in his life, she'd also have to learn to operate in this dual world of both Storm's End and the powerful and influential man he was to the rest of Westeros.

As Stannis had predicted, all eyes were on Sansa as they walked through the restaurant, but she was so focused on him she didn't even notice the attention that she drew. Stannis could admit that it felt good to someone's sole focus; he'd been told he had been too intense by the few women he had dated, but Sansa seemed as caught up in him as he was in her

When they were seated, Stannis ordered a bottle of wine and waited until they both had a glass in their hands, when he toasted her and thanked her for agreeing to this date.

Sansa laughed prettily, "Stannis, this is amazing," she said. She set her wine down and grasped his hand and asked him if this was something he was used to

He laughed a bit ruefully. "This was my father's life, along with my brother's to a lesser extent," he said, stroking a hand over hers. "I learned how to operate in such a world, and sometimes it is still necessary, but it's not where I am most comfortable."

"Well, it's something," she said and gave him a soft smile. "It's lovely for an evening." Sansa was pleased to find that he, too, preferred the insular world that they had seemed to create at Storm's End.

Soon enough, their waiter appeared, and they ordered their meals, conversation about their upcoming trip to Winterfell, discussing what they hoped to find dominating throughout the evening.

When their dinner was delivered, Sansa moaned through her meal that melted in her mouth. She insisted that Stannis try a bite, he looked surprised but opened his mouth at her insistence. He'd never had someone want to share their meal with him. Stannis realized that Sansa always included him in whatever she was doing; whether it was something new she'd found in her research, or spending time with him at Storm's End, she always made a point of ensuring he was part of her world. He realized that very few people had ever made such an effort with him. He was a naturally reserved person, and his whole life, he'd stood to the side as his more boisterous family had taken center stage. But in Sansa's world, she simply continued to draw him in, so that they were the center of each other's worlds.

When dessert came, he felt her foot run up his leg, and his eyes narrowed. He grasped her hand and drew it to his mouth, kissing her fingers, before he pulled a tip of one into his mouth

"Ms. Stark," he growled and locked his eyes with her.

"Mr. Baratheon," she said and smirked at him.

"This is a dangerous game you're plating, Sansa," he said, and she nodded.

"I hope so," and grinned wickedly.

His eyes looked up and found the waiter and signalled for the cheque. Dessert was forgotten as Stannis drew Sansa from her chair. She leaned in and kissed him and stroked his cheek. "Take me home, Stannis," she told him, and he nodded.

"Are you sure?" He asked her, holding her gaze and seeing if she knew what she was asking for.

She kissed him again. "I'm sure, Stannis. More than sure," she said.

He left her side momentarily to pay for their dinner and then they were back in the car, not able to stop touching one another. Soon enough, they were back in the air, and Sansa snuggled up to Stannis and felt his hand trail down her back. The night had been warm, and she'd kept her jacket off, so her back was bare, and his hand felt like a warm brand down her back. Every so often, he'd tilt her head to his and kiss her again, and she moaned and tucked her hand into his jacket, letting it roam over his lean and muscular chest. They could both feel their hearts racing, and when they landed, no words were needed as they made their way back to Storm's End. When they entered the lobby, Stannis took her jacket and hung it up and then it was just the two of them.

He drew her into his arms and captured her face. "Last chance, Sansa," he said, his eyes intense and full of stormy emotion that he rarely let come to the surface. "I won't let you go after this," he told her, and she nodded.

"I won't let you go either, Stannis. Are you sure about that?" She asked.

"Yes," he said simply and directly. He was almost sure he'd been waiting for her his entire life. And he had no intention of ever letting her go.

"Come," he said and grasped her hand and lead them to his private wing. Sansa said nothing as she followed him, butterflies dancing in her stomach in anticipation of what was to come

When they got to the doorway to his wing, he opened the door and allowed her to walk in front of him. Sansa would have loved to say she knew what Stannis's personal space looked like, but she couldn't have described it if her life depended upon it. She was focused only on the man who had never let his hand leave hers as he directed her to his bedroom. Once there, he closed the door, and the large windows along one side let the only light into the room.

"Can I turn on a light?" He asked her, and she nodded. He needed to see her.

She simply stood there, in the middle of his huge bedroom, seeing a massive platform bed that was sleek and low. She wondered how they might find each other in such a space, as a soft light in the far corner filled the room.

Stannis came up behind Sansa and brushed her long hair off to the side and trailed a finger down her spine, all the way to the base where the dress met the curve of her ass and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the back of her exposed neck.

"Mine," was all he said, and Sansa moaned, needy and insistent and heard him let out a low rumble.

"No, my girl, I won't let you rush this. I've waited all week to unwrap you," Stannis said, leaning directly into her, so the words vibrated through her body, shooting heat straight to her core.

He slipped one slender strap off her pale shoulder and let it fall her arm, tracing finger and watching as her flesh pebbled wherever he touched her

"So responsive," he murmured, loving how she responded to his touch. Sansa was virbtating with need at this slow torture he was inflicting upon her.

Stannis did the same for the other; only this time, he pressed kisses as the strap fell down her arm, and he knew with a simple tug, the top half of her dress would bare her to him, but he wasn't quite ready for that yet. He went back to her spine, tracing a large hand over her back, letting his fingers dance along her flesh until he could see her squirm. He felt the tiny zipper at the side and leaned in, still behind her and asked, "May I?"

She let out a breathless, "Please," and the only sound in the room was their breathing and the sound of the zipper opening and then the soft fall of fabric that fell in a pool of pink at her feet. Stannis stood back slightly and took in the lacy thong and high heels and nothing else on Sansa.

Her ass was high and round, a juicy peach that Stannis wanted to take a bite out of. He couldn't help himself as he cupped her cheeks, loving how she wiggled in his hands.

"Fuck," he whispered, undone by how beautiful she was. "You're stunning Sansa."

She gave him a slow grin, full of heat and promise.

He turned her slowly and captured her lips when she was pressed against him. If felt indecent, her almost naked and him fully dressed, but Sansa was helpless to do anything but let him lead. Her lace covered breasts pressed against his black shirt as she tried to get closer to him.

He pulled back slightly and admired the front of her, and quick as lightning flicked open her bra, so she was only wearing the tiny white thong. He appreciated both the colour and the style, but right now, he was greedy for her flesh.

He cupped her breast, small but firm in his hands, and they both groaned. Her nipples were a dusky pink, and Stannis wanted them in his mouth more than he wanted anything in this world. He dipped his head and tugged on one, rolling his tongue over the peak until it was hard and needy. He switched to the other, working it so it matched it's twin, and when he pulled back, she stood there, breasts wet from him, begging for more.

He slowly walked her back to his bed, and when she was almost there, he said gruffly, "Down you go," and she complied, leaving her heels on so that when she lay on his pristine white duvet, she was the most perfect thing he'd ever see. Her center was still covered in that tiny white thong, but Stannis could see the neat red curls there, and he longed for a better veiw.

Sansa swallowed hard and looked up at him, standing over her. She'd never had anyone look at her like he was. She moaned and went to rub her legs together, and he stilled them with a single touch. Legs then went on for miles, that Stannis wanted wrapped around him as he thrust inside her wet heat.

"No," he told her, and she instantly complied, which made Stannis' cock even harder. Where had this woman been all his life?

He climbed on the bed with her and ran a hand up her long legs, making sure he bypassed her center to capture her breasts once again before he leaned down to suckle on them once more.

She panted and held his head there, until her moans became so needy that he finally let a hand drift down to her covered mound where he slipped a finger inside and parted her, feeling for the first time how ready she was.

"Gods, baby," he said, the endearment slipping from his mouth unintentionally, but Sansa seemed to love it as she bucked into his hand. "You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," she panted, arching up to meet him as he stroked her, slipping another finger inside. She was so damn tight, that he was worried he might her hurt if she wasn't adequately prepared.

"Shhhh, I've got you," he told her, and she whined his name, and something snapped.

With one quick flick, he had the tiny thong gone, and there was nothing between Stannis and his prize. He kissed his way down her slim torso until his nose nuzzled up against her pussy and he drank her in. She was perfection and Stannis wanted to feast.

He parted her lips and swiped his tongue, diving deep and gathering her cream, rolling it on his tongue, loving how tangy and tart she was.

"Fucking delicious," he muttered, lost in her pussy as he nibbled and sucked, and Sansa rode his tongue and fingers to her first orgasm. She clutched her legs to his head, pinning him to her pussy. There was nothing else to do but nibble at the sensitive flesh, until she finally sighed and let him go.

When he finally looked up, her slightly dazed eyes met his, and she was panting.

"Clothes, off, now," was all she could get out, and he stood and undressed until he too was naked and joined her back on the bed.

He leaned over her, long and lean and sleek, muscles well defined and sinewy, and saw the desire flare in her eyes. When he kissed her, she pushed herself up on her elbows to meet him, hungry for more. She loved tasting herself on his lips.

"I want you," she said against his lips, tugging his neck to hers, keeping him pressed against her. He nodded and reached for a condom. He saw the slight frown on her face and wondered for a moment.

"It's been years, and I'm clean and, on the pill," she told him unequivocally. "I trust you, Stannis."

He nodded. He hadn't been with a woman in well over three years, and he too had been tested. The thought of being inside her without a barrier was beyond his expectations, and he asked if she were sure.

"I'm sure," she said and kissed him again. "This is…." She trailed off, at a loss to explain what she was feeling, but he knew exactly what she meant.

"I'm there as well," was all he'd say, and she nodded and kissed him again. Stannis let himself brush up against her core and looked into her eyes.

"Last chance," he said, and to anyone else, it might have sounded like a threat, but Sansa knew it was a promise.

She nipped at him and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Mine," she said, and he grunted and surged into her, undone by everything he felt for her. He'd never felt anything like her in his life, so tight and wet, sucking him inside her, until he was so deep he knew this was home. Sansa was home.

"Sansa," he said, carding a hand into her hair so that her eyes were locked on to his

"Stannis," she said, and he began to thrust in and out, tearing her down and remaking her so that only he would ever be enough for her again in this lifetime. She wrapped her long legs around him and clenched her muscles, trying to keep him in her.

"Gods," he said, undone by all he felt. "What you feel like, Sansa," he said and leaned down to suck on her neck, hearing her keen when he found a spot that drove her wild, his thrusts pounding her into the bed, her body matching his punishing pace and giving everything back to him.

He was relentless with her, thrusting in and out of her without mercy at one point leaning down to hitch one of her long legs up further so he could go even deeper. Sansa ground herself against him and matched him move for move. He felt the sweat run down his back and the low tingle at the base of his spine. Eventually, he let one hand leave her hair to reach down and rub her sweet little bundle of nerves.

"That's it, Sansa," he told her, and she moaned and thrashed as he kept his pace and rubbed her until she shattered in his arms, and he stoked into her a few more times and then grunted and finished.

Harsh breathing filled the room, and he had enough presence of mind to look at her face, which had such a look of bliss he almost smirked. He leaned down to kiss her and muttered how he'd never felt anything like that. She kept his body wrapped around hers, welcoming his weight.

Eventually, he brushed back a strand of hair and felt himself soften and gently pulled himself from her. He saw that she still had her heels on and reached down to unbuckle them and then watched as she pulled at the covers and slipped underneath them.

Stannis would never admit it, but seeing her want to be with him, to sleep beside him and wake up beside him was almost as good as the sex itself. Almost. The sex had been spectacular. He stood and turned off the light and then came back to the bed, climbing under the covers to join her, where Sansa immediately snuggled into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Best date ever," she mumbled sleepily to him, and he smiled in the dark.

"Good night Sansa," he said, and she might have said something, but she'd already slipped into sleep, her body wound around him as if he were vital to her.

He tried to think of what he might say in the morning, but he was too relaxed, too sated, too damn happy to worry about what tomorrow might bring, and if she'd have regrets. Instead, Stannis simply turned off his brilliant brain and enjoyed the perfect moment that was having Sansa Stark in his bed, in his arms and his life. The rest they would figure out tomorrow. Because if he'd read the situation right, this was simply the beginning, and for the first time in his life, Stannis Baratheon finally had the woman of his dreams in his arms. He had a pretty good feeling that she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.


	9. The Next Day

Sansa woke up with her face pressed directly into Stannis’s chest, which all things considered was a pretty good way to face each morning she decided. She stretched and felt that delicious little tug of discomfort in her core which was evidence that they had finally had sex last night, after the most romantic date that Sansa had ever been on. She wiggled about and realized that she had to use the bathroom and that she desperately wanted a toothbrush. When she looked up, she saw that Stannis was awake and looking down at her, his eyes slightly guarded, as if he were unsure that this was where she wanted to be. She briefly wondered when his doubts would begin to fade. She was sure they had more to do with him than her, but still, she wanted him to believe in them.

“Good morning,” she said softly and cupped his cheek. “I want to kiss you, but I need to use the bathroom. Don’t worry; I’m not leaving,” she added and shimmied out of the enormous bed, snagging his discarded shirt along the way and darted into the bathroom that was adjacent to his bedroom and then stopped, stunned by the space.

It was sleek and modern and decadent. A massive shower that must have had fifty nozzles stood at one end, all stone and glass. Sansa could see a bench and briefly pictured her and Stannis in there, and then shook her head. There were two sinks on a huge vanity, and Sansa grimaced slightly when she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked down at one of the sinks and saw a new toothbrush, soap, toothpaste and a brush beside a fresh washcloth all laid out neatly, and she grinned. When she looked closer, the shower itself held her favourite shampoo and conditioner, and she saw a new razor, as well as various other body washes and what she suspected, was a brand-new bar of soap that she liked. She shook her head at the care that he took and how he was always thinking about her.

She quickly washed her face, brushed her hair and scrubbed her teeth before using the toilet and washing her hands, eyeing herself critically in the mirror. She looked happy and well-loved, and she hoped that Stannis was up for some more fun this morning. When she walked back into the room, Stannis was sitting up against the headboard and watching her, his chest bare and Sansa’s heart thumped just a bit faster at the picture he made. He was so handsome, and she couldn’t believe he was all hers. “I used the guest bathroom,” was all he said, and she nodded, almost shyly before she hurried over, before taking off his shirt and diving back into the bed, cuddling up to him. She could feel him relax as she pressed herself against him, and she let her hands explore his body. Last night he’d made it all about her, and while it had been lovely, she was just as eager to explore his body as he had been to learn hers.

She had been correct that Stannis, even at forty-seven, had an impressive figure. His muscles were lean and taunt, stretching over a slim stomach and tapered hips. It had to be the walking and the horseback riding because Sansa couldn’t remember a single history professor in her six years at university that looked like him. She hummed greedily as he let her hands play, dipping lower and lower until he reached out and stilled her wrist.

Her blue eyes shot up to his, and he dragged her back up to his face so he could kiss her, framing her face in his large hands.

“Sansa,” he said, and she grinned at him.

“Stannis,” she said, and she nipped at this lip. “Last night, you got to play. I want to this morning,” she said. His look was almost one of bewilderment. Undoubtedly someone had devoted time and energy to pleasing him? Hadn’t they?

She leaned down and kissed him, tasting the toothpaste on their freshly brushed teeth. “Stannis, let me,” she said softly, and he nodded jerkily and let her resume her explorations. When she finally pulled the sheet off his lean hips, she grinned as her prize was revealed. She let her hands grasp him and felt how warm he was. She risked a look at his face, and his gaze, always intense, was laser-focused on her. She sent him a bit of a shy smile.

“I’ve never really done this before,” she said and wondered if she’d be any good or if he’d even want her to try. “Tell me if I do something wrong.” He could hear the slight doubt in her voice.

“Gods baby, you can’t,” he told her and saw how she preened under the endearment. “Do whatever you want, Sansa,” he told her, and she nodded and watched her confidence grow and she shattered his world.

“Sansa, you’ve got to stop,” he said, and she shook her head, never taking him from her mouth from him. She proceeded to take everything he had to give her. He could barely believe how she made him feel and hauled her up to rest on his chest.

“I have no words love,” he said, and she grinned.

“So, I did, ok?” She asked, and he grunted out a sound of disbelief.

“Jesus Sansa, you have no idea,” he said and kissed her again as she squirmed around on his lap. Perhaps his enforced celibacy for the past three years would pay off by being able to keep up with her. He traced a hand down her body, and let his hand find her.

“Do you want to this, baby?” He asked, and she keened out a sound and sought more. He let his lips find the spot on her neck that drove her wild while he rubbed her.

“That’s it, my good girl,” he told her as she rode him to her first orgasm of the day, and he felt her shudder around him. Before she could even come down from that high, Stannis laid her out on the bed. The room was bathed in the warm grey light, dawn having just broken. Stannis’s rooms were at the top of the Tower, and he had no curtains this high up, so there was nothing to impede his view.

“You’re gorgeous,” he muttered.

“Stannis?” She asked when he just kept looking at her, worry colouring her voice. Then he gave her an almost feral grin, and smirked, “Payback,” and leaned down.

“Oh god,” she said.

When he finally came back to her mouth to kiss her, she felt him bump against her, and he looked down at her. “Can you go once more, Sansa?” And she nodded, a bit stunned at how he made her feel. She felt him enter into her, and she grunted at him. She’d never been filled like this.

Stannis made love to her the same way he did everything else in his life; intensely and with his full attention on the task at hand. All Sansa could do at this point was wrap her legs around him and hold on, her hand finding purchase on his shoulders as he moved in her. She’d never been the subject of someone’s undivided attention, their sole focus. Stannis was devoted entirely to her finding her pleasure again. She moaned and sought his mouth, kissing him hard.

“Stannis,” she said in wonderment, sensation overwhelming her, and he cupped the back of her head.

“I’m here, Sansa,” he told her, and she almost cried at the feeling of it all.

“I need…” she begged, not even able to articulate what she wanted, and he grunted.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said and leaned down to kiss her again as she arched into him, panting into his mouth.

“Please,” she pleaded with him, and he nodded, unable to speak at he felt his end coming again and he increased his thrusts until she screamed his name and clenched around him, dragging him over. They stayed locked together, dazed and gazing into each other’s eyes.

“It’s never been…. I just… “ Sansa said, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

“Sansa?” he asked a bit worried, and she shook her head.

“I just feel so much,” she said, and he nodded.

He knew exactly what she was feeling; he was right there with her. He’d had nothing like this with anyone before. He knew that no matter what happened, no one would ever compare to Sansa.

“Do you?” She asked, and he leaned down and kissed her. “I told you the moment we took this step, that I’d never let you go,” he said, tone and voice serious and direct.

“Nothing’s changed,” he said, and she nodded happily.

“It’s the same. This is everything, Stannis,” she said, and he grunted his agreement. Eventually, he rolled off of her and pulled her into the cradle of his arms, which she went willingly. It was still early, and he drew the covers up around them. When she was comfortable, he asked her what she wanted to do today, and she titled her chin up to grin at him.

“Horseback ride,” she said, and he smiled back, wondering how someone so perfect for him could exist in this world.

They lay like that for a while longer, Stannis running his hand down her back, Sansa playing with the planes on his chest, comfortable and yet aware of each other in ways they had not previously been.

Stannis briefly wondered when it might be time to give voice to what they were feeling; as far as he could tell they were merely dancing around the obvious, but he didn’t want to scare her away. When Sansa’s stomach rumbled, she laughed and admitted she was hungry, and they reluctantly left the warm cocoon they’d built for themselves.

“I have nothing to wear,” Sansa said, frowning at the impossibly wrinkled dress that was laying on the floor.

Stannis wondered if was too forward to suggest she might want to leave some things of hers, here, in his rooms, so they didn’t face this problem tomorrow morning. Then he frowned, wondering if that was presuming too much, that there would be a tomorrow morning. He had assumed that once he got her into his bed, she would never leave.

He handed her the shirt she had slipped on earlier and Sansa gathered her things and laughed a bit.

“I should just bring my stuff here,” she said jokingly and then she glanced away as if she’d been too forward.

He cupped her cheek and brought her eyes back to his. “I’d like that,” he said and kissed her. “Bring as much as you’d like,” he told her, and her eyebrows winged upwards.

“How big is your closet Stannis?” She asked with a grin on her face, and he gestured somewhere over his shoulder. He knew there was more than enough room for whatever she wanted to bring over. He hoped it was everything she’d brought with her to Storm’s End. He took her hand, and she gave him a look, and he shrugged.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said with a small quirk to his lips, and she grinned at him.

She realized as they walked through his apartments that it was mostly a huge space and that there were various areas dedicated to specific things. Sansa could see a desk in which she was sure he wrote at, two large chairs in front of a large fireplace, what looked like a minibar/kitchen area and a long hallway that lead to other rooms. He made no attempt to give her the grand tour, to which Sansa was thankful, wearing only a skimpy thong and his black dress shirt.

Soon enough they had made it to her rooms. She kissed him again and promised she’d meet him in the kitchen after she showered and dressed for riding and he nodded.

Sansa darted inside and squealed a little at the epic date and sex that she had just had and the hurriedly rushed to the shower and scrubbed herself clean before dressing in her riding gear, excited about the day ahead. The weather wasn’t nearly as lovely, so there would be no picnic today, but they could get a few solid hours before coming back to Storm’s End and engaging in other activities.

When she walked into the kitchen an hour later, the Stannis she’d come to love because she was more convinced than ever that she did indeed love Stannis Baratheon, was sitting at the kitchen table; long, lean body encased in his riding gear as well. She saw his eyes darken in desire as he looked at her, and she flashed him a smile and walked over to where he was sitting, leaning down and kissing him.

“Hi,” she said, and he grunted before he drew her back down again to continue kissing her. She sighed as she settled into his lap, happy that he seemed to be taken with her as she was with him. After a few more minutes, she stood up to prepare her breakfast, and when she sat down again, she asked where they were going today.

Stannis thought the other direction, pushing deeper into the Stormlands themselves. There was a small wood to the west that was about two hours ride, and if they made good time, they’d be back for lunch.

When they were saddled in their mounts, Stannis led the way, and Sansa couldn’t be happier to sit back and watch him. He was a consummate horseman, and Sansa thought it was a skill lost in this modern age of connivance. Here, at Storm’s End, time seemed to be whatever they wanted to make it. Stannis had improved the Castle so that modern amenities were present but hadn’t lost the feel of the building and its history. She wondered if perhaps this afternoon might be a day that he let her poke through some of the old antiques and boxes of memorabilia that she knew he had stored by the score in one of the anterooms on the first floor. Cressen had shown her the first day, and she itched to get her fingers on some of it. Thinking of going through the relics from Stannis’s ancestors, also brought her to thinking about Winterfell and what they might tell her Dad. She frowned. Not what, but how. Because there was no question what this was serious. That led Sansa to think when she might tell Stannis what she felt for him; to finally name what this was. Part of her felt it was almost ridiculous how quickly they had moved, but she was a grown woman, and she knew what she felt. Sansa had heard her entire life how her parents fell in love immediately and, a romantic at heart, she’d always believed that could be true for her as well. Meeting Stannis had proven her point. She must have been lost in her daydreams because she felt a shadow and looked up to see that Stannis had stopped Fury and had come alongside her.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, a worried look on his face and she smiled and nodded at him to reassure him. She should have noticed that Stannis would see that she was distracted. He was a man that paid attention to every detail.

“Woolgathering,” she said, and he accepted her answer.

What if she told him tonight? In bed, she thought and then wondered if he would believe her or think that she was only saying it because they had, hopefully, just slept together. But they’d both told each other that this meant more than just sex, and Sansa remembered when he’d said that she was his and she’d done the same back to him. So surely that meant that he felt the same way? Surely, he loved her as she loved him?

“Sansa,” Stannis said and waved a hand at her. She suddenly realized she’d missed so much of the ride, too busy caught up in her head, and she grinned sheepishly again and admonished herself to pay attention as they made their way back to Storm’s End.

As predicted, the closer they got to home, the angrier the clouds were, and Stannis hurried their horses to an increased pace, not wanting them to be caught in the inclement weather. From the looks of it, tonight would be a massive storm, and he had things to check at the Castle including the generator, candles, bottled watered and flashlights. When they got back to the stables, Sansa worked efficiently beside Stannis to get the horses into their stalls, brushed and fed. When they left the barn, Stannis closes all the windows and locked the doors. They would be safe for the night, and the stables had withstood more than one of Storm’s End violent shows.

Stannis grabbed Sansa’s hand and brought them in the kitchen as the wind picked up. He glanced at her to see if she was nervous, but she only seemed curious and perhaps slightly excited.

“What can I do?” She asked immediately, and he let out a grateful sigh.

“If you can, bring whatever you might need to my rooms,” he said. “If we lose power, we have a backup generator for emergencies, but I’ll gather the flashlights and candles. Also, we should bring food up to the small kitchen I keep in my wing, just in case.” He had a massive fireplace that could heat the whole suite of rooms if they lost power, and they could bunk in there for days.

Sansa nodded and said she would go to her rooms and gather some of her belongings and meet him back here.

He grasped her hand before she left and swallowed hard.

“You can use the shower in my room,” he said, and Sansa nodded, thinking about the decadent bathroom she’d seen earlier this morning.

“Ok,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.

Stannis drew her closer and traced a finger down her cheek.

“Just so we are clear, it won’t be alone Sansa,” he told her, and Sansa swallowed hard and nodded.

Then she kissed him and went to gather her things, anticipation humming through her body at the night to come. Like the storm gathering outside, the energy between them was explosive, and she could feel the sexual tension between them rise. She knew she had to tell him how she felt; she wasn’t one to hide or keep secrets, and it was important. Stannis was important, and she hurried to gather her things so she could be back by his side, eager to see what the night had in store for them. If she had her way, this was the beginning of the rest of their lives together, and she couldn’t wait.


	10. Stormy Night

Within the hour, Sansa had a bag packed, along with her laptop, the latest books she was reading and some toiletries to take to Stannis’s rooms. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw that he had gathered some food for them, and she could hear the wind picking up outside.

“It might get worse,” he warned her, and she nodded.

“I’d imagine you’ve weathered these types of storms before,” she said and he nodded, pleased that she wasn’t a woman that seemed to lose her head in times of turbulent weather. If she wanted to live at Storm’s End, she would have to be willing to live with the volatile storms that rolled in each autumn. They grabbed their supplies and walked through the castle, the wind howling.

“I love a good storm,” Sansa said excited and he gave her a small smile. He did as well. It was one of the best things about living here, he often thought.

When they got to Stannis’s rooms, he opened the door and Sansa went inside immediately. Before she could walk further, she turned and gave him a look.

“Is there anywhere that is off-limits?” She asked quietly and he shook his head, thinking about his sketches. He knew he’d have to show it to her eventually and wondered if this was the time. Right now, they were all tucked away, and he knew she would never go through his things to find his secrets. The right time would come to share that part of himself with her and he was confident he would know when that was. Besides, he had plans to keep her occupied tonight.

“Let’s get you settled,” he said, and she smiled.

“I’d like that, but you should know, I might never leave once I settle in here,” she said and winked at him.

He pulled her back towards him and had a serious look on his face as she stood in his arms. He lifted a hand and rested it gently on her cheek, his blue eyes locked onto hers.

“And what if I don’t want you to leave?” he murmured and saw her eyes light in excitement.

“Stannis,” she whispered against his lips. It was all right there; everything they felt, everything they knew this was, on the tip of both their tongues. They only had to find their courage and give voice to what they were feeling. 

“Last night was…” he said, struggling to find the words.

“Everything,” she finished, and he nodded, his eyes serious and solemn.

“I don’t want you to have your own rooms,” he blurted out and her eyes widened before they lighted. He shook his head a bit, missing the joy on her face, and continued to speak. “I don’t want you to have just a few things here. I don't like the idea of you being away from me to get ready for the day after you spend the night in my bed. I didn’t like you… leaving this morning. Not like that,” he continued, and she was grinning like a fool. Stannis was too caught up in his own head to see her reaction. “I don’t care if that means we’re moving too fast; it’s never been like this for me, Sansa and I….”

She leaned up and kissed him stopping his words mid-sentence. His hand automatically came up to hold her face to his. She stepped back slightly from the kiss, the mouths close and breaths mingled.

“Stannis. I’m in love with you. Fully, completely, over the top in love with you. Of course, I want to move all my things to your rooms. I never want to leave here,” she said almost breathlessly and watched as a stunned look came over his face. And then he reacted.

“I love you too, Sansa,” he said and then devoured her mouth, keeping his hands on her neck and her lips pinned to his. “So much, since that first moment I saw you, I swear,” he was muttering, and Sansa smiled by how undone he was. Somehow, they made their way to the bedroom, still wrapped around each other

“I promised you a shower,” Stannis murmured, nipping at her neck, making her moan and arch into him.

“Yes, you did,” she said, smiling wickedly.

“Come on then,” he said and took her hand to lead her into the bathroom, her bag all but forgotten. Once there, Stannis turned on the taps and heated the water and then turned back to Sansa. The look he had on his face warmed her blood and she hummed as he approached her.

She reached for him first and pulled the sweater over his head, throwing it on the ground, while Stannis’s greedy hands did the same to her. The pulled and tugged and kissed and nipped at each other until they were naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. 

“Gods, you’re distracting,” he muttered and pulled her into the shower, adjusting the taps so that the water was soft and warm, like a tropical rainfall and Sansa titled her head up and let it pour over her. When she opened her eyes, Stannis was standing there, mouth slightly ajar, at the picture she made.

“When I had this made...” he started to say and shook his head. He captured her mouth and kissed her deeply, letting her little moan heat his blood. “No one’s ever been in here but me, but I knew the moment I saw you; this was what I had in mind,” he told her, and her eyes filled with love.

“Stannis,” she murmured his name and wrapped her hands around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair and keeping him close. She liked that she was the only woman he’d had in this space. It made it theirs.

“Let me?” He asked and picked up her shampoo and she nodded and turned so he could wash her hair.

She’d never done anything like this with anyone before. Hell, she’d hardly had sex before Stannis. She’d slept with Harry three times, and even her brief summer fling with Willas involved more kissing and heavy touching than actual physical intimacy. The thought that she was the only woman that had seen the inner sanctum of Stannis Baratheon only increased how correct this all felt. Sansa knew she’d never love another the way she did him. The moment she’d seen Storm’s End it was as if it had called to her; like this was her home and it had simply been waiting for her to find it, and the man who was dedicated to its preservation.

Stannis loved her hair and he spent long moments running his fingers through it, watching the shampoo bubble and fill the shower with a scent that was, he’d discovered, uniquely Sansa. He thought if he were lucky, he’d be surrounded by the smell of lemons and lavender for the rest of his life. _She loved him_; his brain repeated. Sansa Stark loved _him_. She loved Stannis Baratheon. She wanted to be here, with him. She wanted to move her things into his room, to share his space, to build a life. With him.

When he’d rinsed her hair of the shampoo, she handed him the conditioner and he worked it through her long tresses, wondering at the shades of red, from the darker pieces underneath to ones that had almost a hint of blonde at the top, where clearly the summer sun had lightened her locks. He wondered if it would all darken over the autumn and winter months here and was excited that he’d be able to watch the change himself. He left the conditioner on her hair and leaned down to suckle at her neck, a hand reaching out to cup her breasts as her back pressed against his chest. She could clearly feel his erection grinding against her and arched into him.

He banded an arm, hard, muscled and tanned from hours of being outdoors and riding his horse, around her torso to pin her to him. “Be a good girl and stay still, Sansa,” he murmured into her ear and she moaned but did as he commanded. She was discovering that she loved it when he was in charge.

He let his other hand wander down her slim waist and found her core, wet and needy and eagerly played with her, letting her writhe on him until she came apart in his arms. She would have sunk, boneless and sated to the floor of the shower if he hadn’t been there to hold her up. 

He turned her in his arms and found her lips, kissing her again.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, and she agreed. She reached for the soap and lathered her hands, happy to get to her turn to play with him, and she followed the planes of his chest and torso, noting the sparse hair covering his body. She hummed her approval, loving how lean he was, how strong. When she cupped him, he growled at her, an actual growl, and her face broke out into a huge grin. Before she knew it, he’d picked her up and sunk into her, carrying her to the small stone bench along one side, driving himself deeper into her with each step. Sansa squealed in delight. 

“Hold on,” he grunted into her ear, and she did as he pounded away

“Stannis,” she said at one point, breathless with desire.

“Sansa,” he said back, looking directly into her eyes, letting her see the deep well of emotion that was there.

“Oh god,” she said when she felt her body build to a peak again. “Please,” she whimpered, and he made some indescribable sound and somehow reached down to bring her over before allowing himself to find his own release. He leaned into her, panting and trying to catch his breath, bracing his legs on the stone step in front of him where she sat.

He felt her hands on his back, stroking him, gentle and loving and he buried his face in her neck, overcome by all the feelings he had for her at that exact moment.

When he finally got himself under control, he pulled out of her and watched as his seed ran down her leg and felt his cock twitch to life. Shaking his head at his own overwhelming need for her, he brought her back under the spray where they finished washing each other and finally shut the taps off

She grinned. “I bet the environment will hate how much hot water we are going to use,” she said, and he barked out a short laugh

“At least we’re showering together,” he said and sent her a wink that delighted her. She would bet that so few people in this lifetime had ever seen Stannis so relaxed.Stannis felt lighter than he ever had in his entire life. Sansa wrapped herself in a huge soft grey towel and wandered back into the bedroom. Though it was only midafternoon, the room had dimmed as the storm rolled over them. It hadn’t broken yet, but dark clouds threatened wind, rain, lightning and thunder.

Sansa opened the one bag she packed and slipped on sexy underwear and a loose, lacy top with matching little shorts. She knew her legs would look a mile long, and Stannis’s blue eyes took her in. She licked her lips, seeing him standing there in nothing but his tight boxer shorts, his chiselled chest on display for her to look to her heart's content. She hummed her approval. 

She let out a breathless laugh, wondering how she could want him, again, and gestured a bit helplessly, trying to focus on her task.

“So, do I just grab some space wherever?” She asked and he shook his head and showed her the huge walk-in closet. He smirked as her eyes widened and she realized he must have taken time to give her half the space.

“Oh, my gods,” she said. “You should have shown me this first,” she said, eyes gleaming and he shook his head at her and let her put her things away. When she finally came out of the bedroom, he was wearing soft black pants and a dark grey t-shirt that hugged his lean body and Sansa found him at his desk checking the weather, a phone to his ear.

“We are fine, Davos,” he was saying, and he pulled Sansa onto his lap. She looked at the screen and saw that the storm was expected to last at least twenty-four hours, and they were telling people on the coast to prepare for up the 72 hours without power.

“We have enough supplies to last a month, the generator has fuel, the horses are taken care of, and we have heat and food,” Stannis was saying, his tone brisk. But Sansa could tell it mattered to him that Davos cared so much. 

“You and Mayra and Cressen are not to come back until I tell you all is ok,” he said into the phone. “No sense in five of us being stuck out here without power,” Stannis said, and Sansa could hear Davos’s reluctant acceptance of the situation.

“She is fine,” Stannis said and squeezed Sansa’s middle and it warned her that Davos had asked about her. She leaned into Stannis and knew no matter what happened out here, he would keep her safe. She didn’t doubt it for a single second. Eventually, Stannis signed off and told Davos he would contact him in a day or two when the storm had passed. When it was just them again, Stannis pressed a kiss to her cheek and brushed back her hair

“What do you want to do now?” He asked her and she smiled.

“Cuddle up with a book in front of your fireplace, after an early dinner?” She said to him and he nodded. He’d been thinking the exact same thing. The fireplace was massive, and it was built so that it warmed both the main living space along with his bedroom. Stannis’s entire floor was a perfect blend of old and new and Sansa loved every part of it.

When they wandered to the small but well-appointed kitchen, Sansa hummed as she made them an early dinner. She knew that her lover had almost no skill when it came to cooking, but she enjoyed it and set out to roast a chicken, peeling potatoes and putting on a pot of vegetables. Stannis had focused on building the fire up in the main room so that the warmth of the fire crackled throughout the rooms and cast a bright glow in the gloomy afternoon. Sansa slid the chicken into the oven and drained the potatoes, tossing them in oil and rosemary to roast them, and turned to open a bottle of wine, completely at home in the space where she found herself.

With a glass of wine in her hand, she began to wander the room, noting that even here, one whole side of the room was nothing but a smooth stone that faced the rough sea. It was only the other side that had the massive windows that overlooked the rest of the Castle and the lands that extended for as far as the eye could see. Sansa ran her hand along the stones and soon Stannis’s fingers joined hers.

“It’s said that it took Durran God grief seven tries to raise a castle that wouldn’t fall to the storm’s coming off Shipwrecker Bay,” Stannis murmured into her ear, joining their hands and leaning in close to her. She shivered as she felt his warm breath wash over her, his voice low and almost raspy. “Legend states that the children of the forest helped in its construction, using magics to raise the castle walls, allowing it to resist the storms. Other’s believe that a young boy, who grew up to be known as Bran the Builder advised Durran on the construction of the seventh castle. Either way, the stones are placed so precisely and perfectly that no wind can find purchase.” He ran their hands against the surface.

“It’s amazing,” Sansa breathed, liking how he’d keep this wall exposed. She leaned back into him, loving his solid presence that was all around her. He took her hand and followed the wall, their hands feeling the smooth stone that had repelled countless storms. 

“No matter what happens, we will be safe. The Castle has stood for thousands of years, weathering storm after storm, Sansa,” he told her, and she turned her head to meet his.

“I trust you, Stannis. I’m not afraid,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Good,” he said and leaned in to kiss her. She liked that he kept their hands linked, that he seemed to want to be near her. She felt like he was a drug and she was an addict that couldn’t get enough. Caught in his gaze, she heard the ding of the timer from the kitchen and keeping their hands locked, she went to check on the food.

He frowned slightly. “You don’t have to cook for me, Sansa,” he stated, and she gave him a grin when she saw that slightly perturbed look on his face. 

She slid the potatoes into the oven, noting how the chicken was browning nicely and drained the carrots, sprinkling fresh rosemary and thyme on them before sliding a small amount of butter into the pan and setting them inside the warming compartment on the oven. When she’d done these small tasks, she cupped his face.

“I like to cook for us, Stannis,” she said, and he saw the truth in her eyes.

While it was true that Davos, Mayra and Cressen were as close to him as family, he also paid them. No woman had actually taken care of Stannis because they wanted to since his mother. He let the smell of food cooking, the fire, and Sansa wash over him, and realized that he wanted this to be their life; forever. He wanted her to be his wife. He had his mother’s ring in a safe deep inside a closet in his art room, and he knew that this was the woman he would ask to marry him. He also knew he would seek her father’s permission first. Because that was the type of woman that Sansa was, and it was important to him that Ned knew how serious he was about her. Stannis was determined to do this correctly. 

When dinner was ready, Sansa plated their food and brought the bottle of wine to the table, just as the lights flickered and died. She grinned and there was just enough daylight left for him to light the candles without using a flashlight. The generator would keep the water going, as well as basic communication devices such as the landline and the security system. There were various parts of the castle that required the pipes to be heated, and Stannis had learned the hard way that if they froze it was misery trying to fix it; storms happened out here year-round, and a late autumn one or early spring storm could bring freezing rain, snow and sleet and wreak havoc with the delicate systems the castle functioned on. Things like lights, electricity and heat would be candles, the fireplace and flashlights.

He grasped her hand and told her no wandering through the Castle, and she nodded solemnly, but he saw the small spark of mischief. He shook his head and asked what she was thinking.

“Can you imagine being here hundreds of years ago, during such a storm?” She said and he cocked his head and thought about it.

“Well, the dungeons on the lower levels would be absolute misery, filling with cold seawater and making it impossible for anyone down there to be comfortable,” he stated matter of fact and Sansa grinned. It occurred to Stannis that he’d never had this before; someone who literally ate up the history of his home the way that he did.

“What was this?” She asked and gestured vaguely to their current location.

“The Maester’s quarters and the rookery, as best I’ve been able to determine,” Stannis told her, and she nodded.

“That makes sense,” she said, and narrowed her eyes, trying to envision it

“I know it’s silly, to occupy such a large space for a single person,” he started to say. He had totally redesigned this area after his parents had passed away. Down the hallway, where he hadn’t taken her, there were additional bedrooms and bathrooms, and even a few empty spaces. His whole private wing took up the entire top of the colossal drum tower. He had thought, back then, that if he ever did have children, he wanted them near him and not in a nursery far away. His parents had used the old Lord’s chamber’s on the lower levels, but Stannis had a vision about this space and had worked for years to ensure it was exactly what he wanted

“Stannis no,” Sansa said, grasping his hand. “This is truly one of a kind,” she said, and he knew she meant it.

A large boom of thunder rumbled through the room, and both watched in awe as the storm truly took hold. Wind, lightning and cracks of thunder that sounded like they came from the gods themselves held court outside and as they finished their dinner, Sansa hurriedly cleared and cleaned their dishes and then settled into the sofa that faced the windows, warmed by the fire and a glass of wine in her hand. Any thought of reading was banished as she settled in to be entertained by her first major storm in her new home. Stannis joined her shortly, having banked the fire, with his own glass of wine, and Sansa cuddled into him. He let his arm drape around her, and the comfortable silence stretched between them as they watched the weather put on a show.

“This is spectacular,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. They sat there, quiet, with the fire crackling and the storm raging outside, tangled in one another.

Stannis couldn’t imagine a more perfect twenty-four hours and told her so at one point and she agreed. He let his hands wander her body; stroking a long leg, skirting along her flat stomach, a trail of fingers down her arm and she hummed her appreciation of his attention.

Stannis had never considered himself a highly sexualized man. He’d seen his brother chase everything in a skirt even when he’d been married to Cersei and it had bothered him. Marriage was a commitment; a duty and a promise to the other person and Stannis could not imagine cheating on his wife. To be fair, there hadn’t been a single woman in his entire life that he had considered for the position of wife until Sansa came to Storm’s End, but it was unimaginable for him to think about ever hurting her the way that Robert and Cersei had one another.

Which brought him back to his original point. Up until Sansa, he would have said that he was a man that was not, nor would he ever be, ruled by his baser need. He knew that now to be an utter lie. He’d had her twice already today and he was hard again and all he was doing was sitting with her in his arms.

He could feel the delicious hum of sexual tension between them, and he knew that he would take her to his bed and made her scream his name again tonight. He couldn’t recall a single time in his entire life when he’d had such a need for another person. Melissa, the lawyer he’d briefly dated had been a beautiful woman and very sexual, and even then, it was rare for Stannis to want to couple with her more than once per evening. But none of that applied to Sansa. He felt he could have her multiple times a day, in various positions and places around the Castle.

Eventually, the lightning and thunder abated, and the driving rain and wind was all that was left. Stannis stood to add more wood to the fire and watched as Sansa gathered up their wine glasses and put them in the sink. She gave him a sultry smile and walked towards the bedroom, and he was helpless to do anything but follow her. The storm had made the room dark, but the white of the bed stood out, and Sansa emerged from the bathroom and slipped beneath the covers, naked as far as he could tell. Stannis took his turn in the bathroom and then joined her beneath the covers, gathering her to his side. She rubbed her body along his and he kissed her soundly.

“Thank you for an absolutely perfect twenty-four hours,” she told him softly and he grunted.

He turned her face, and even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew that they were filled with love. For him. He ran his hand down her back and kissed her softly. “I love you,” he told her, needing to say the words before all the other emotions consumed him.

She let out a soft sigh. “I love you too,” she said, and he could hear the contentment in her voice. He let his hands roam her body, stroking and petting her, letting her squirm and work herself into a bit of a frenzy against his body

“Stannis,” she eventually whined and grabbed his hand and drew it down to her entrance and rubbed herself against him and he rumbled out a low sound against her ear.

“Yes?” He asked her.

“Please,” she begged. 

“Please what?” He asked and heard her grunt her frustrations.

“Do something,” she said and nipped at him. If the light had been better, she would have seen a grin on Stannis’s face that had never been there before, not once in his forty-seven years on this earth. But she couldn’t, so she finally dragged him over her and wiggled, until he simply sunk into her.

“Ohh…… yes…. that’s what I wanted,” she said, pleased with herself.

He moved leisurely in her, enjoying the sensation that was them together in this way. There was no feeling quite like it on earth, and certainly, no one he’d ever been with compared to the way that Sansa felt.

“I love this,” she sighed, and he grunted his agreement, leaning down to nuzzle at her neck, letting his hand pinch and tug at her pert little nipples.

“As do I,” he told her, and he knew she’d be smiling. The world could have ceased to exist, for all they were aware of what was happening beyond their bedroom, and that suited them both. Tonight, was only about them, and they explored one another, tasting, licking, kissing and touching one another, learning what felt good and what would drive the other wild. Even so, with no hurry, Sansa felt the climax in her building, and she knew this one would be different; not quick and fast but long and slow and she begged him to come with her.

“Please, Stannis, I need you,” she whimpered, and he groaned at her request, helpless to deny her anything. When the orgasm finally broke over her, she wailed out her release and as requested he was right there with her. He collapsed on top of her and she welcomed his weight, demanding he not move, and he fitted his face into her neck and stroked her quivering body.

“Tomorrow we bring everything here,” he said into the darkroom and he felt her nod. “And when we are in Winterfell, anything you left behind comes home with us. I want all of you here, Sansa,” he said, knowing his tone was serious and worried momentarily she might balk at his demands.

“Oh gods, yes,” she agreed, grabbing his chin and tilting his face to hers. “This is home, Stannis.”

“Yes, it is,” he told her and felt her relax as he moved off her and gathered her in his arms, his little wolf wiggling around until she was comfortable

Storm’s End was as much hers as his, and he was never letting her go. In a matter of days, they would travel to Winterfell, and he would ask Ned Stark for permission to marry her. If he said no, well, he would still be marrying Sansa, but he hoped his friend would see just how much he loved her. He could provide for her; he’d never hurt her, and he wanted children and a life with her. And he would do anything he could to ensure she was happy for the rest of her life. He could only hope that everything went according to plan.


	11. Happy Little Meddlers

The next morning the power had come back on, and the storm had blown through and out to sea. Stannis and Sansa were ensconced in their private kitchen on the top floor of the Tower. They were currently discussing the scruff on Stannis’s face.

“I like it,” Sansa said and was eyeing him up critically. Stannis was unused to being under such scrutiny. Especially when it looked like his lover was contemplating taking him back to bed. He’d just had her but could feel his cock stir.

Sansa was wearing his t-shirt from yesterday, her lengthy hair a messy braid down her back, and the cutest underwear Stannis had ever seen covered her perfect ass. Sansa had said they were boy-shorts; Stannis didn’t care what they were called. He loved what she looked like in them. She had her feet resting on his lap as she sipped her first cup of the day, as they sat on the bar stools at the island in the kitchen. They were debating whether or not he should shave today

This conversation had all come about because he’d seen the marks that his whiskers had left on her body this morning when he’d woken her up, and he’d been worried that he’d hurt her. Her skin was so pale and delicate, and he was reluctant to hurt her. He frowned when she said she liked the marks and she liked his scruff. She leaned over and ran a hand over his whiskers.

“Trust me, darling, I liked what it felt like,” she told him, and he felt a warm sensation throughout his body at her endearment for him. It seemed like it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

The storm hadn’t been quite as devastating as feared, and he’d phoned Davos, Mayra and Cressen to let them know all was well. That meant that they were all coming back to the Castle today. They claimed they had things to check on, but Stannis knew them to be liars. They wanted an update on the weekend. Specifically, how things had gone between him and Sansa, they were too nosy by far, and Stannis wondered how much patience Sansa would have for them when they started to make comments about where the wedding reception might be held. He knew them. They couldn’t not meddle. So far, she had seemed to be delighted by their antics, but he worried they would be too much for her. He’d have to keep an eye and see how things went.

“At least for today,” she was saying. “Keep it,” and winked at him, and he relented. He would never be caught dead in public unshaven, but he was only planning on being in the Castle today. And if Sansa liked it, then he would keep the scruffy look. For now.

After a quick breakfast, they made their way to her rooms so they could pack and move the rest of her belongings into his wing. Their wing? He couldn’t wait until Winterfell when hopefully he could put a ring on her finger and solve the semantics of the problem. Once they were engaged and married, all of this would become a moot point. It would all be hers as much as his. No one on this planet loved Storm’s End as much as him, and if anything happened to him, it would all go to her.

When they entered her rooms, he glanced around and noticed most of the belongings in the rooms were things that Cressen or Mayra had added. He asked if there was any furniture she had become particularly attached too; in his mind, it could easily be moved to his space if she had, but she shook her head. She could add more pieces of furniture when she’d spent more time there if she felt they were missing something.

Stannis felt the situation was under control until he was confronted with her closet.

“Good gods,” he said, standing there stunned by the sheer amount of clothing she had. “Is there more?” He asked, and she nodded and pointed to the dresser as well as a chest that she had filled. He was gob smacked that one woman could have so many clothes. And shoes… there were dozens and dozens he was sure.

“Did you bring everything you owned here?” He asked. His voice must have been harsher than he meant it to be because he saw her blush and turn away.

“It was silly, I know….” She said, and she started to say, and he knew he’d hurt her.

“Sansa,” he gentled his tone and gathered her in his arms. “Baby, no, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s fine, trust me.”

He tilted her head toward him and looked her in the eyes. “I’m impressed with your dedication to fashion,” he told her seriously, and she gave him a tiny push. Then she shrugged and worried that lip, so he kissed her softly.

“Tell me, Sansa,” he said in the gentlest tone he had. He was pleased when she did. They still had much to learn about each other.

“I’ve sewn a lot of these things myself,” she told him, and he remembered her mentioning she liked to do that. He turned back to her closet, and it took on a new meaning. “And my mom and I always loved to shop. I guess…. well…. sometimes when I miss her, I just like to go shopping. It reminds me of when I was young, and she would make an afternoon out of it. Just her and I. She’d take me to her favourite, grown-up stores, not the children’s ones. And she’d let me pick out these outfits for her. I always got to choose one thing that she would buy, no matter what. Even if it was hideous, she never said no to me when it was just the two of us. When I think of fashion and clothing, I think of my Mom,” Sansa told him, and he cupped her cheeks. He could see the tears swimming in those blue eyes.

“I’ll build you a dozen closets, Sansa. Whatever you need. You can have as many clothes as you’d like,” he told her and kissed her softly.

Stannis remembered his mother; always elegant and fashionable. She’d smelled so lovely, and as a young boy, he’d loved it when his father had dressed up in his tuxedo to escort her to some fancy event, draping her in jewelry from their family collection, or having a new piece commissioned for her. He still had almost all of it; Cersei had never wanted anything from the Baratheon’s.

“You’re a goof,” she said, but he’d coaxed a smile out of her face. He stroked her cheek

“I was an ass,” he said, and she shook her head at him.

“Maybe a little bit,” she said and then handed him a box.

He willingly dove in to help her pack all of her clothing, and three hours later, they finally had it all boxed away, and Stannis looked around the room.

“I’ll get Davos to move it,” he started, and Sansa laughed.

“We can help, but first, I think we should probably end the suspense,” she said. They had both received text messages half an hour ago from Cressen and Davos stating that they were back. And that they were waiting for them.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He asked, a grim line on his handsome face.

“Stannis,” she said, laughing at him. How bad could it be?

They entered the kitchen hand in hand to grins on the faces of the two men and Mayra rolling her eyes.

“It was the dress, wasn’t it?” She asked immediately, and Sansa laughed. She hugged her and thanked her for the help and then whispered, “It certainly helped.” With the two women were lost in their conversation, it gave Cressen and Davos a chance to pounce on Stannis.

“Well lad, now that you’ve got the girl, have you thought about the next steps?” Cressen asked and discretely slid a brochure to Stannis that he’d picked up in the village. It was a company that promised an authentic medieval wedding near the castle Storm’s End. Stannis snorted and flicked it back to Cressen. He hadn’t thought about the logistics of a wedding, but he couldn’t imagine marrying Sansa anywhere but the Castle itself. That was unless Sansa had her heart set on something at Winterfell

“About the ring,” Davos started, and Stannis shook his head at the two of them.

“It’s taken care of,” he said, his voice brooking no argument, and both men nodded, understanding immediately that Stannis would give Sansa his mother’s ring.

Cressen gripped his hand. “Your mother would have loved her,” he said, and Stannis nodded.

“When are you planning on asking her?” Davos said, voice still low.

“I’ll talk to Ned Stark when we land at Winterfell. He needs to know my intentions towards her,” Stannis said, and then shrugged. “Beyond that, I hadn’t planned how or when.”

“That’s not good enough my boy,” Cressen said. “A woman like that deserves a proposal that will knock her socks off. Think about it, son. She’ll be telling your children about how you proposed to her for years.”

Stannis frowned. They hadn’t discussed children. The only time the topic had come up had been when they’d made it to the coast, and she had said he still had time to have them. He wondered if she wanted them. It wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for him. He loved Sansa first and wanted to be her husband, no matter what. But he hoped that she did want them. He could imagine a daughter that looked like her, or perhaps a son who was like him. She would be an amazing mother, and he knew this was something they should discuss. Soon.

The rest of the day was spent moving the boxes of Sansa’s belongings into his rooms. They endured knowing looks and gentle teasing from the three meddlers as Stannis had come to call them, before promising they would be down for dinner in an hour. Mayra was making her famous roast dinner and told them not to be late, and that’d tonight they’d be fancy and dine in Round Hall. Sansa was giddy at the prospect

“They are so much fun!” She said, smiling widely as Stannis grumbled about how they needed to mind their own business.

“Aww, they just love you so much, Stannis,” she said. “Like I do!” And then she happily started opening boxes and sorting clothes until his entire bedroom looked like a tornado had gone off in a woman’s clothing department.

“You will have this cleaned up before bedtime?” He asked, slightly bewildered and a bit disgruntled. He tried not to say too much more; after all, he had asked for this.

She bit her lower lip. “Ummmm I hope so,” she said, then shot him a brilliant smile. “Don’t worry; if not I’ll just pile it all on the floor and deal with it in the morning.”

Stannis barely refrained from shuddering. The thought of sleeping in such chaos sent a chill down his spine. She saw the look on his face, and said, very seriously, “Don’t worry, darling, I will clean it up as soon as possible.”

He grunted at that and turned to spend the next half an hour on research, leaving her happily flitting about the room. It was a small price to pay to have her by his side and in his bed.

When he walked back in, forty minutes later, she had the vast majority of her possessions tucked away and his eyebrows rose in admiration at her quick work.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I saw the look on your face.” She walked up to him and kissed him and then held his face in her hands.

“Living together is messy, Stannis. We’re both going to do things that annoy each other,” she said, and he worried for a moment if she regretted her decision. Before he could ask, she shook her head at him. “No, I don’t regret my decision, and yes, I’m excited to see what an adventure it might be.”

He nodded and swallowed. “Do you want children?” It just came tumbling out of his mouth, and there was no taking it back once it was said. He watched as her eyes widened and then she looked directly into his.

“Several,” she told him. “You?”

He nodded. “Several sounds good,” he agreed. “Perhaps one or two to start,” he amended, and she nodded.

I can live with that,” she said.

If she thought it odd, he didn’t mention marriage she said nothing

She dressed quickly in an elegant black sheath dress and slipped on heels, pairing it with a bright cuff of silver on her wrist and sparkly earrings. Stannis found he liked getting ready together as he slipped into a navy suit with a lightly striped shirt and a dark tie. He’d been tying his ties since he was a teenager but found it was enjoyable to have Sansa straighten it slightly for him. She sent him a smile and asked if he were ready to go, and he clasped her hands to his and said yes.

Round Hall had a fire roaring and formal dining places set, and Sansa was delighted in the atmosphere.

“I wanted you to get a taste for it,” Mayra said, and Sansa gushed at how wonderful it looked. Unlike the breakfast that had been served in here, this time she didn’t hesitate to run her hands along with the suits of armour that lined the hall and told Stannis how much she liked his family’s sigil and then asked why there was a second one.

“The man I was named after, he created his own. After King Robert died, and the War for the Five Kings begun, House Baratheon was pitted against one another,” Stannis said. Sansa knew this of course, but not how the second sigil had come about. He frowned. “He was seduced by a red priestess and created his own sigil, the crowned Baratheon stag within the fiery red heart representing the Lord of Light.”

“You don’t approve of his actions,” Sansa said, making it a statement, not a question.

“I don’t understand his actions, and therefore I am uncomfortable about giving my approval or not. But… I think history has remembered him wrong. From what I’ve found, he was not the man the books say he was. He would never have forced his followers to convert to his religion, despite his own choices. And what they say he did to his daughter…” Stannis said, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine that.”

Sansa walked up to him, seeing how bothered he was. “Why haven’t you ever looked deeper into it?” She asked, truly curious.

He shook his head. “I guess I feel I’m too close. Of course, I’d want to exonerate my namesake. Anything I find might not be taken seriously because it would be me that had discovered it,” he stated and barked out a harsh laugh.

“I’m not,” she said, directly and without embellishment, and his eyes swung towards her. She held his gaze and saw a slight wonder in his eyes. “I’m not too close, Stannis. I will look into it when I’m combing through Baratheon and Durrandon records.”

His gaze was almost penetrating. It had been something that had chaffed him his entire life; that the man he shared a name with was some religious fanatic, who burned his own daughter to appease some Lord of Light. He’d wanted to sink his teeth into the conflicting stories about his namesake, but had worried he couldn’t be objective enough, or that others wouldn’t take his work seriously.

“Alright,” he told her and nodded his head.

He was overwhelmed with how much this meant to him, and Sansa could see that. He’d never had anyone on his side like she was, save perhaps Cressen and Davos. She squeezed his hand tighter and then the other’s entered to say that dinner was ready. They held themselves apart for a moment longer before joining them at the table, both knowing this was something quite important to Stannis.

Dinner was lovely; Mayra had outdone herself with the meal, and the conversation was entertaining. More Stannis stories were shared, but they pulled an equal number from Sansa about her life. Cressen was relentless; asking about her family, her siblings, her work, how she knew she wanted to be a historian and what she wanted to do when she finally got her Ph.D. She thought she saw his eyes light when she spoke of how she loved her large family and hoped for her own one day. She felt Stannis hand reach down and squeeze her thigh, and that thought warmed her. She could imagine three or four of their children in the Castle, and she didn’t think there would be a better place for a child to grow up than here. She also said that while she might want to teach, she honestly hadn’t given much consideration to her professional life after obtaining her doctorate. Davos positively salivated at that and spoke about online courses that universities offered these days. Stannis shook his head at their blatant scheming.

Sansa groaned when Mayra brought out lemon tarts for dessert, the woman having wheedled that little bit of information out of Sansa when she’d first arrived. Stannis’s eyebrows arched at that, and she shrugged.

“I love lemon.”

He nodded solemnly as if this were essential information, and somehow, she knew he would never forget this little fact about her. She remembered for her birthday a couple of years ago when Harry had ordered her a huge chocolate cake and couldn’t figure out why she was slightly miffed with him. Somehow, she knew she’d have some type of lemony dessert to mark the special occasions in her life from this point forward. She swore she saw Cressen take out his iPhone and make a little note in it and shook her head at them all. When Sansa couldn’t possibly eat another bite, she groaned and sat back in her chair, moaning that Mayra was too good a cook and that she couldn’t possibly compete.

“Your food is delicious,” Stannis told her, and grasped her hand, and three sets of eyes pinned them.

“She cooked for you?” Mayra asked, impressed and nodded her approval at the young woman. Sansa waved a hand.

“It was a roasted chicken and some vegetables. Nothing like what you create,” she said, dismissing it.

“Do not diminish your skills, Sansa,” Stannis said. He smiled softly at her and had they had eyes for anyone but each other, they would have seen the look of joy on the three faces across from them.

Eventually, Stannis put down his napkin and rose, reaching for her hand and asking if she’d like to take a walk along the beachside of Storm’s End.

“It’s always calm after a storm,” he said simply, and she nodded, and they went to find their outdoor gear, for the first time not having to go to separate rooms to do so.

When Stannis led her outside, he handed her a headlamp, and she giggled but put it on. It was autumn and the nights were getting longer, which suited Sansa just fine. More time by Stannis’s fireplaces and by the man himself, she thought.

He grasped her hand and flicked on her little lamp, and together they picked their way carefully down the built-in stone steps that led to the beach. The tide was coming back in, but still had hours before it was high again, and the beach stretched for miles. Sansa sighed and smiled at the man beside her, whose hand hadn’t left hers the entire time. It was brisk and refreshing, and she loved the smell of the sea and told him as much.

He thought about that. It was something he was so accustomed too that he didn’t think about it; he just accepted it.

“This place is magic, Stannis,” Sansa murmured, cuddling into him as they stopped to look back at Storm’s End.

“It’s all because of you,” she told him.

She had listened to her Dad describe how Stannis had been responsible for maintaining the castle after his and Robert’s parents died. Her Dad might have been friends with Robert first, but he had a deep and abiding respect for the man standing beside her. She wondered how her Dad would react to their relationship. She hoped he would be happy. She could understand if he had some reservations, at least about their age difference, but it wasn’t a barrier in Sansa’s mind. She hoped he’d see how happy she was, how in love, and she hoped that he’d be accepting. She would love to have him come to Storm’s End, and he could prove to be very helpful in their research about the past.

“Happy?” She heard Stannis's voice in her ear, and she smiled and told him she was.

“Let’s go home,” she said and hand in hand they walked back to Storm’s End, both completely content that this is where they were mean to be.


	12. Ned Stark

Stannis watched in bemused exasperation as Sansa was attempting to fit two weeks’ worth of clothing into a single suitcase that she was taking to Winterfell. He tried to offer the solution of an extra bag, but she waved a hand at him and told him that would be ridiculous as they were planning on being back at Storm’s End by Friday evening. He agreed, which was why watching her insist that she needed yet another pair of boots was baffling.

Finally, Stannis stepped in and stilled her hand, capturing her face between his hands.

“It’s only a few days, love,” he told her and saw how she almost melted at the endearment.

He hoped his intervention was enough so that they could finally be on their way to the airport. Even though they were using the private jet, Stannis wanted to be in the air sooner rather than later. He wanted to speak with Ned Stark and settle the issue once and for all that he and Sansa were a couple. So far, the only people who knew about them were Cressen, Davos and Mayra. Clearly, his intervention was not helpful as she made no attempt to drop the boots.

“I know,” she said quietly. “I’m being silly and I’m stalling.”

Stannis only barely prevented himself from rolling his eyes at the obviousness of that statement.

“Are you worried about your father’s reaction?” He asked and she shook her head.

“No, not worried. I just….” She sighed and sat on the bed, her boots forgotten in her hand, a faraway look on her face. Stannis sat beside her, warm in his dark grey woolen peacoat and suit. He’d been ready to walk out the door, but obviously, Sansa had something on her mind. After a moment she began to speak 

“My Dad and I were close growing up. At least as close as I was with my Mom. Even though I was totally different from my siblings, he always made time for me. When my mom got sick, I was still in high school and we just became a unit, you know?” She told him and he picked up a hand and stroked his fingers over hers. “He had to spend so much time with her at the hospital and getting her treatments. Robb and Jon had already graduated, so it fell to me to look after Arya, Bran and Rickon. And my Dad always told me how much he appreciated me. He’d bring me home a new history book, or find some time for just him and I, no matter how busy his life got. After she died, I stayed close, to help him and support him and we became even closer. Robb got this really nice girl, Jeyne, pregnant in his fourth year of university and was forced to marry her, by his own silly standards. My Dad never pushed him. Jon went North, to do some research beyond the wall about wolves and their declining populations. Arya took off travelling, and for a while it was just me and my Dad and my two youngest brothers.” 

Sansa paused and looked at Stannis and leaned against him. “I love you so much,” she whispered, “And I just don’t want to have to choose. Because if I have too, I’ll choose you, Stannis, and I think that would break my Dad’s heart.”

“Oh gods, Sansa,” he said, voice thick with emotion. He would never deserve her. “You don’t have to choose, love. You’ll never have to choose. We’ll make him see that this is good; that we love each other and that this is what we want. We’ll bring him around, I promise.”

She nodded and gave him a watery smile. “I know he likes you Stannis. I just want him to see how perfect we are for each other.”

“He will,” Stannis said with a confidence he didn’t quite believe, but he wouldn’t let her see his doubts. He would not be the reason for strain between her and her father and he would do whatever was necessary for Ned to see how serious he was about her. He’d already packed his mother’s ring to show him and was planning on asking Sansa to marry him this weekend when they were back at Storm’s End. He saw absolutely no reason to delay the inevitable.

“Alright, enough stalling,” he told her gently and kissed her softly. “Leave the extra boots and let’s go, Sansa.”

She nodded and went to put them back in the closet, coming out wearing a double-breasted Alexander McQueen black flared wool coat. Stannis hummed his approval at her choice. She was always so beautiful, and her style was so elegantly graceful. He knew he’d mocked her extensive wardrobe, but he appreciated it none the less. There was a part of him that couldn’t wait until they travelled throughout Westeros, just to have her on his arm and see the envious looks of everyone else when they realized she was his.

Stannis took her hand as they each took a bag and made their way to the garage where Davos was waiting to drive them to the same airstrip where they had met the helicopter for their date night.

When they arrived, the sleek jet was waiting for them, and Sansa tried not to let her jaw hit the floor. Her family was wealthy; they always had been. But she had a growing suspicion that the man she loved was a very rich man. If she were looking for a crass objective, she’d say that Stannis Baratheon was loaded.

“Stannis,” she said, voice low and slightly awed and he gave her a small and shook his head.

“Just pretend you’re used to it,” he told her and winked. She gave a small laugh not sure she would be able to do as he suggested. How did you get used to this? 

She tugged him back towards her once they had exited to car, and whispered, “I don’t love you for your money. You know, that right?” She said a serious and worried look on her face. 

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “It’s the castle, I know,” he told her, deadpan, and she punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“I’m serious,” she said and pouted a bit.

He leaned down and sucked on her lip, and then whispered in her ear. “So am I. I’ve seen how you look at Storm’s End,” and then he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I’d be jealous if I didn’t make you scream at least once a day.” 

“Stannis,” she said, huffing out a breath, almost moaning at that image he’d placed in her head.

“I know, Sansa,” he said, voice serious but loving. “Gods, I know that right down to my soul. I know you love me,” he told her, and she finally nodded, satisfied.

“Just so we’re clear,” she said and then sailed by him and up the stairs, where she tried not to let her jaw hit the floor. Again. She was sure there were more luxurious private jets in the world; certainly, there were more ostentatious ones than Stannis’s, but even his jet screamed billionaire in a way that nothing else had. Not even the Castle. The Castle screamed old, established family. The jet said, handsome, billionaire executive. The jet had soft buttery leather seats, wood and sleek metal accents and a long couch and bar area. A steward asked if she wanted some time to drink and she squeaked out a request for tea. The steward nodded and disappeared. Stannis sunk into a seat beside her and took in her slightly stunned expression.

He’d always found it highly distasteful when women wanted him for his wealth alone, even when he’d understood it. He couldn’t help but find delight in Sansa’s reaction to his affluence. He leaned over and kissed her and murmured for her to relax.

“It’s just so….” She waved a hand and he nodded.

“It’s over the top, but necessary,” he told her succinctly. “I have to go back and forth to Kings Landing, and sometimes even over to Essos for business. I believe there is oil in the North, and I’m actually working with your father on some mining rights, along with some natural resource extraction that I believe could be very lucrative for both of our companies. It’s simply easier to travel like this.”

Sansa snorted and gave him a look and he narrowed his eyes.

Then she leaned in. “Have you ever had a woman in here, Stannis?”

He swallowed hard and shook his head.

“Hmmm,” she said and grabbed his tie and dragged his mouth to hers, letting her hand trail up his leg. She wasn’t going to jump him on his plane on the way to meet her father, but maybe on the trip back.

“Sansa,” he moaned and stilled her hand before it could go much further. He was hard as nails and it would take very little to give them the privacy, they needed for him to do the things he wanted. “Bad girls can be punished,” he growled at her and saw her eyes flare with heat.

“Oh, I can be a bad girl, Stannis,” she purred, and he snarled into her mouth and nipped at her.

“Behave,” he said just as the steward arrived with her tea. They were both flushed and panting, and Stannis told him they were ready to leave without ever taking his eyes off hers. Before they lifted off, he leaned back over and whispered, “One day, my love,” and was pleased to see her breath hitch.

Once they were airborne, Sansa happily settled in and took out a ream of papers. She’d gotten quite far on her research project and was working on an update for her advisor. That was something else she’d been meaning to talk with Stannis about. She would either have to make a trip into Summerhall to meet with Dr. Tarth or have the woman out to Storm’s End. Soon. She made a mental note to bring it up after the talk with her Dad.

Stannis took out his own work, only his was to do with the company and not, unfortunately, his book. He thought briefly about all they were looking into. The end of the civil war, the first Storm Queen and now his own namesake. He shook his head at their ambitious schedule but found he was excited in a way he couldn’t ever recall being in the past. And the best part was he had Sansa by his side for all of it.

It wasn’t a long flight to Winterfell, and within two hours they had landed. Ned had arranged for an SUV to meet them at the airport, and Stannis climbed in the driver’s seat and asked for directions to Winterfell Manner.

Sansa chatted happily with him, her excitement to show him her childhood home and to see her father overriding her nervousness. She explained that the Manor House was outside of the city of Wintertown itself, set on its own acreage and that her father had tried to preserve as much of it as he could over the years.

Stannis had been expecting something less of Winterfell and was pleasantly surprised to see how much of the original or rebuilt structure seemed to still exist when they pulled up to the gates. If his instincts were correct, and there were oil, natural gas and precious metals in the North, then Ned Stark could become an even wealthier man in the next few years.

When they arrived in front of the main entrance, Sansa gave him a small smile.

“Ready?” She asked and he nodded. They had decided they wouldn’t hide their relationship; they had nothing to be ashamed about. Stannis exited the vehicle and came and took her hand, holding it in his as they approached the front door, only for it to be thrown open and for Ned Stark to suddenly be there.

“Sansa!” He cried as if it had been months since he’d last seen her and not mere weeks.

“Dad,” she said, and Stannis felt her drop his hand so she could hug her father. Neither noticed that Ned had seen their clasped hands.

“Welcome back, sweetie,” he said and then, keeping an arm around Sansa, turned to face Stannis.

“Stannis,” Ned said, his tone reserved and slightly cool.

“Ned,” Stannis said, matching it and holding out his hand. The men shook hands and then Ned gestured for them to come in. When they entered the hallway, Sansa put her hand on her Dad’s chest.

“Dad, there’s something we need to discuss with you,” she said, and he could see the worry in her eyes.

“Alright,” he said, having a good idea what they were about to say. Then he watched as Sansa reached for Stannis’s hand, and how Stannis drew her closer to him. 

Ned always knew the day would come when his favourite child would fall in love; true love, not that silly romance she’d had in university. He’d hoped she’d find someone worthy of her; someone good, brave and strong. Someone who appreciated her for the kind and loving soul that she was. He didn’t like that there was such an age difference between the two of them; he was sure no father would. Stannis and he were only two years apart. But he saw the way she looked at him, and more importantly, he saw the way that Stannis Baratheon looked at his daughter. He should have known when he’d suggested she go to Storm’s End that this was inevitable. They were perfect for each other and complimented one another well. He sighed and gestured to his study.

Ned wondered if they even realized they were already a unit. He watched as Sansa took their coats and hung them in the hallway, and then as they reached for each other, checking to see how the other was doing. He saw how they sat, angled close to one another and almost touching. He saw how Stannis kept his hand possessively on the small of her back, and how he let her lead, giving her space in her home to set the tone.

He might not love their age difference, but he could clearly see they were madly in love with one another. And he knew there wasn’t a man on this planet that could take care of her the way that Stannis could. The man would sooner slit his own wrists than ever hurt her or cheat on her. He was loyal to a fault, and from what Ned could see, solely dedicated to her happiness. When everyone was comfortably seated, Ned looked at the two of them.

Before he could say a single word, Sansa blurted out, “I’m in love with Stannis. And he loves me. It’s not a fling, Dad. We’re serious.”

Ned sighed and rubbed his eyes and pinched his nose before he pinned her with a look. “I can see that it’s serious, sweetie,” he told her, his tone gentle with her. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy. Ned looked to Stannis and he nodded. Then Stannis leaned into Sansa.

“Sansa, can you give me a moment to speak with your father, privately?” He asked her and she worried her lip, looking back and forth between the two men.

“Alright,” she finally said and kissed him softly and then got up and hugged her Dad. 

“Be nice,” she whispered. “I really do love him, Daddy,” she told him, and Ned nodded and felt his eyes tear a bit.

When the two men were finally alone, Stannis met Ned’s glare.

“I love her, and I want to marry her,” he said without preamble and took out a small velvet box with his mother’s ring. When Ned opened it, he saw a massive sapphire, surrounded by diamonds on a slim platinum band. It was a vintage 1920s Cartier engagement ring. And it was the perfect ring for his daughter; elegant, timeless, and classic.

“It was my mother’s,” was all Stannis said and Ned nodded. He put the ring back and looked at him.

‘“Children?” He asked and Stannis nodded.

“As many as she’d like,” he told him.

“I don’t have to ask how you’d provide for her, but what type of prenuptial agreement would you want her to sign?” Ned asked.

Stannis reeled back and then glared. “None,” his ground out.

Ned’s eyebrows did raise at that. “None?” He barked out a short laugh. “I’m not sure your lawyers would advise you on that course of action.”

Ned saw Stannis’s jaw tighten and he could tell he’d offended him. Good, Ned thought. Let’s see what he’d made of.

“She isn’t that type of woman, Ned, and you, more than anyone, should know that. If something were to happen to me, I would want it all to go to her. Everything including Storm’s End.”

Ned nodded, impressed. He saw Stannis had a fist clenched and knew he had to do damage control. He rose up and poured them both a drink, even though it was barely noon. When he sat down, he took the seat that Sansa had vacated and looked contemplatively at Stannis.

“She’s my baby, the light of my life and I never thought there would be a man worthy of her in this entire world,” Ned said, conversationally, and he saw Stannis stiffen even more. 

“You just might be,” he said and took a small sip of the scotch. “She’s precious, Stannis. She loves with her whole heart. She’s got the best soul of any of us. She’s loyal, devoted, and kind. So fucking kind. This world is so cruel, and I’ve only ever wanted to protect her from those who might harm her,” Ned said, and Stannis nodded tightly, meeting Ned’s gaze.

“And now that’s your job,” he said and held out his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he said and saw Stannis startle slightly, before shaking his hand.

“I can see how much you love her,” Ned said, and Stannis nodded, and then swallowed.

“From the first moment I saw her,” Stannis said with an intensity that spoke to his deep feelings. “I knew. I knew she was…. everything. I love her, Ned.”

Ned nodded and clasped him on the back. “Thank fucking gods it’s not some snivelling punk like Joffrey sniffing around her.”

Both men laughed and then grimaced at such a thought.

“I’ll make her happy,” Stannis promised, and Ned nodded.

“You already do,” he told his friend and saw him slip the ring back into his pocket. “Don’t wait too long to ask her. I want more grandkids, son,” Ned said and howled in laughter at Stannis’s frown. The thought that Ned Stark would become his father-in-law was an interesting one, to say the least.

“That will never get old, will it?” Stannis asked dryly and Ned grinned.

“Nope.” Ned paused. “Son,” and let out another bark of laughter. Stannis supposed it could have been worse 

Sansa popped her head in and frowned seeing the glasses of scotch on her Dad’s desk and her Dad laughing at something.</p><p>

“I’ve made lunch if you two are done discussing my dowry,” she said sarcastically and both men wondered if she’d heard Stannis tell her father about his plans for asking her to marry him, but it seemed she was just a bit put out about their private conversation. 

When Stannis approached her, he pulled her into his arms and leaned down to speak softly to her. “We had to work some things out, Sansa. We were friends first, and it was important that I didn’t ruin that,” he told him and saw her eyes soften as she nodded at him. 

“Thank you,” she said and then kissed him. Ned tried not to watch, but it was fascinating to see them so comfortable with each other. Sansa had barely been gone three weeks and now she was standing here, in love with Stannis Baratheon. Ned had never seen the man act so soft, and he knew, without a doubt, that this was a man he could trust with her. 

Lunch was an animated affair, and they eagerly explained what they were looking for. Ned stood at one point and came back with a small ancient looking piece of paper, encased in plastic and handed it to them.

“When you told me what you were looking for, I immediately remembered this,” he said and watched as they hunched over and read the raven scroll.

“Ned Stark supported Stannis’s claim to the Throne?” Sansa said, incredulous.

Ned nodded.

“But then why did Robb Stark declare himself King in the North?” Stannis wondered and Ned shrugged.

“Damned if I know, but I know you two will have fun trying to figure that out,” he told them and watched as they pondered this latest bit of information.

After lunch Ned gave Stannis a tour of Winterfell; some parts were original, but many had been rebuilt over the years. The two men also discussed the resources that might be present in the North. Stannis wanted to send teams to do some explorations on Ned’s vast lands that still belonged to the Stark family.

“Anything that is found on your land Ned, well… I don’t have to tell you with the price of natural resources these days,” Stannis said. He might not crave the business world the way Robert or his father was, but he was good at making money. Ned consented to a survey team to come and take a look. They’d discuss things further if they found anything. 

They didn’t get to any more research that afternoon. Sansa gave the two friends their space to adjust to the new dynamic that was now a reality due to her relationship with Stannis.

Rickon, at fifteen, blew through the house at one point, scarfing down some food before mumbling that he was off to football practice. He couldn’t care less that Stannis was here, and only gave Sansa the briefest of hugs.

Later, when Sansa was making them all dinner, Stannis and her Dad sat at the massive kitchen table pouring over maps of the land Ned Stark owned. Their family had always been well off, but not truly wealthy. Catelyn Tully had come from real money; Stannis type money and had brought a huge inheritance into her marriage. Each child had been left with a nice nest egg, and Sansa’s still sat squirrelled away. She hadn’t really had a need to use it. Her parents’ deal with all their children was that they would pay for school and once that was done, they were expected to make their own way. Since Sansa was still in school, she was mostly being financed by her Dad. She frowned at that thought, though, and decided she’d discuss it with Stannis. Maybe she should offer to pay him rent. They hadn’t really talked about money. Then she turned to observe them.

It made her happy to see how excited they were, Stannis believing there was real wealth in the North and that there was a lasting legacy for her father to find and capitalize on. 

Ned frowned at one point. “The land is sacred, Stannis. I don’t want it stripped and pillaged for what’s underneath with no thoughts of the long-term impact,” Ned told him, and Stannis nodded. 

“Even if you simply know what is there, Ned, it would be enough for you to decide what you want in the future. Knowing that you’re sitting on a gold mine, or a huge reserve of oil or natural gas will help you make decisions for the future of your land. And your children.”

Ned nodded and saw the truth in his friend’s eyes. He was an honest man to a fault, and it was one of the reasons they got along so well.

Sansa eventually made them pack it all up as she served dinner, and Stannis thanked her for preparing another meal for them. When Ned asked about that, Sansa rolled her eyes and told her Dad all about Cressen, Davos and Mayra. Then she asked for her Dad’s phone and added their three numbers to his iPhone. Ned frowned slightly, still not completely comfortable with his smartphone.

“Just be forewarned,” Sansa said, wagging a finger at him. “Cressen is relentless. The moment you text him, he’ll never leave you alone,” Sansa said, and Ned nodded. It was nice that Sansa wanted the two families to be connected and it warmed something in Ned that she wanted him to still be part of her life, even though they both knew her home was now in the south.

Later when they were all in the study, Ned pointed to a stack of boxes that Sansa hadn’t previously noticed. 

“That’s all I could find that would be relevant to your search,” he said and scratched the back of his head. There had to be at least forty banker boxes filled to the brim. Sansa grimaced and remembered one summer that she had spent cataloguing endless documents. It’s why she’d encouraged Stannis to start here. She hadn’t spent a single moment looking at what was on them, but she knew her Dad had a huge amount of stuff. And like any historian worth their salt she knew most of it would likely be completely useless. But there could be some something in there that gave them insight into what had been happening all those years ago. That’s why you searched if you were a historian; for that one piece of gold amongst the crap.

Ned was the first to leave the study, and soon Sansa grabbed Stannis’s hand. She’d put their suitcases in her bedroom earlier and Stannis was fascinated to enter her private bedroom. She glanced around and realized that not much remained from when she lived here. When he asked why she blushed and said she’d sent most of it to Storm’s End.

“Presumptuous, huh?” She said, a half-grin on her face.

“Ahhh, well I like to think that you had an inclination about what you’d find there,” he said and kissed her soundly. Sansa wrapped herself around him and let her hands run up and down his chest.

“I want you,” she murmured, and he grunted his agreement. He looked towards the bed; it was a queen and nowhere near the size of his huge platform one in the Tower, but it would do for the next few nights. He slowly undressed her, kissing and nipping at her body, before he laid her down on the bed and joined her, sinking into her. He kept his mouth on hers; the last thing he needed was Ned Stark coming into their room, demanding to know why he’d made Sansa scream. He was thankful for his foresight when he swallowed her cries as she peaked. When he followed her over, he rolled to the side and gathered her in close and Sansa snuggled in deeper.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever had sex at Winterfell,” she said, a mischievous grin on her face and he shook his head at her. In so many ways she was unspoiled and perfect for him.

“Me too,” he said, and she giggled at him. He had no idea how he could make her so happy, but he thanked the gods that he did.

“What did you and my Dad talk about?” She asked.

“You and my intentions towards his daughter,” Stannis said. She nodded.

“And everything is good?” She asked, checking once more.

“Everything is perfect, Sansa,” he told her and stroked her cheek. “Now go to sleep my love,” he said, and she nodded, snuggling deeper into his embrace.<

Suddenly she remembered her thoughts about money. She glanced at him.

“Ummm I was thinking earlier, since I moved in, I was wondering if I should be paying rent?” she said, and she saw his jaw drop. He was silent for a time and then shook his head.

“No, Sansa, that is not necessary,” he told her, and she protested.

“But maybe I should buy groceries, or pay for the heat, or something,” she continued. “I’m living there as well. It’s only fair that I contribute,” she said, seriously.

He gazed at her and could see how important this was to her. He wondered how he might explain that he loved taking care of her, and that he could never accept her money. The mere fact that she had even wanted to contribute warmed something inside him.

“Baby, I love that you want to contribute,” he said to her, cupping her cheeks, praying he got this correct. “But, it’s not necessary.” He held up a hand when he could see the protest on her lips. He kissed he quickly and pulled back. “I know you want to contribute, Sansa, and you do. Trust me, you do. Please, let’s just leave things for now and see how they go. I promise if I feel you should be adding financially to the household, I will let you know.” He saw her frown and think over his words.

“Promise?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I promise,” he told her truthfully.

“I love you Stannis,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Sansa,” he said. “Now go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

Sansa felt her eyes drifting closed and wondered if she’d let him off too easily. She hoped he didn’t see her as some freeloader, but she knew that Stannis was honest. She had to trust that if he thought she should be contributing to the household expenses; he would tell her. Everything was still so new, and they were figuring things out as they went. A part of Sansa knew that he was a man that took a certain amount of pride in being able to provide for his partner, so she would let it go for now. She felt him pull her closer, and content that they had her father’s approval, she fell asleep in Stannis Baratheon’s arms, in Winterfell, wondering what tomorrow might bring, excited to dive into the past, and see what they could find.


	13. Little Black Book

Sansa sighed and brushed back a lock of hair that had come loose from her braid and looked around the room where they had set up to go through the boxes her father had given them. It had been a day and a half, and they’d hardly found a thing that would give them insight to any of the motivations of the surviving Starks at the end of the civil war. And they’d only made it through a quarter of the boxes. There were at least thirty more they hadn’t even touched.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said, frustrated. She thought for sure they would have found something by now. Anything. But most of the documents were from before the war. Years or decades before the war. She knew that Winterfell Castle had been sacked after Lord Stark had lost his head in Kings Landing, by the traitor Theon Greyjoy and then again by the Bolton’s. Thousands of records had been burned, looted or lost.

“Hmmm,” Stannis said, not even looking up. He’d just picked up an interesting book, a slim volume that had potential. He opened it up and saw the delicate, feminine wiring that he would bet money was a woman’s. And a highborn one at that. Peasants and commoners either couldn’t read or wouldn’t take the time to write such thoughts down. He felt his heart rate increase and opened the fragile pages. He gently turned the first few and hitched a breath, realizing he was holding a diary from the Queen in the North, First of Her Name, Sansa Stark. 

“Sansa,” he breathed, and she heard the excitement in his voice.

“What?” She asked, rolling her neck. They had decided that they would take most of the boxes back with them to Storm’s End to go through it all there. Then she looked directly at him and saw his face and the excitement on it. She moved to stand beside him, and he handed her the book, and watched her face and saw when she realized like him what she was holding. She ran her hands reverently over the pages.

“Stannis,” she breathed his name and squeezed his hand. She handed it back to him and he shook his head.

“It’s yours,” he said, and she nodded and went to curl up in a chair to read while he kept going through the records.

Most of the records were from Maester’s that had served at Winterfell; grain stores, cattle butchered, the amount of wine and ale to get them through the long winters and short summers. Stannis was starting to realize that when Bran the Broken became King of the Six Kingdoms, very little from the King himself ever made back to Winterfell. The volume that Sansa was holding would most likely be their best source.

Two hours later, she stood and handed him the book.

“It’s from her time in King’s Landing,” she said and shook her head and he could see the sadness in her eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked. She shook her head and sighed.

“She was treated horribly there,” she told him. “She doesn’t say anything overt; but you can tell. She talks about salves and potions for wounds she received from the Kingsguard, and the threats made towards her from the King as her brother won victories over the Lannister army at the time,” she told him.

She flipped to a page that she had marked and told him to read it. She watched when his eyes widened.

“She was waiting for him. She was waiting for Stannis Baratheon to win the Battle of the Blackwater. To become the King and save her,” he breathed and felt her fit herself into his arms. “He was so close to her,” Stannis said quietly, but with intensity. “His reputation had to be better than that of the Lannister’s if she was hoping for him to win that night,” Stannis muttered. It added weight to his theory that Stannis Baratheon was a good man; a man ruled by honor and duty. 

“I wonder what her life would have been like had he won?” she wondered out loud and both were lost in thoughts of a distant past.

“What do you know about her?” Stannis asked curiously. Of course, every first-year history student in Westeros knew the basics about the first Queen in the North. Her story was practically legend and Stannis knew why Ned Stark would name his child after such an impressive woman. She had survived a marriage to Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf, and another to a vile northern bastard named Ramsey Snow/Bolton. She’d convinced her cousin to mount an offensive to take back their home, bringing the Knights of the Vale to their side. They would have lost that day if it had not been for Lady Sansa Stark. That was how history remembered the Battle of the Bastards. She had also come south after the mad Queen burned the Capital to the ground with a Northern Army to demand her cousin’s release and secure her own Kingdom. Little was known about her motivations, her hopes, her dreams. Little was known why, beyond the obvious reasons, she sought Northern independence. What made her push for it when it was her brother on the throne?

Now Stannis was holding three years of her innermost thoughts. It was extraordinary. If there was nothing else in these boxes, this was astonishing. Still, Stannis believed there had to be more like it. Clearly the Queen was an intelligent woman. Her diary was in code, never overtly naming her tormentors. She had clever nicknames for those who had beat her, hurt her, scarred her. It would take days of careful reading to decipher all her observations, and they didn’t even know if she had another volume in all these boxes.

“I know as much as anyone, I guess,” Sansa said, shrugging answering his original question. “When I was a little girl, I used to make up stories about her, trying to think about how she survived everything she must have been through.” 

“This is incredible, Sansa,” Stannis said, almost stroking the slim volume in her lap. It had been years since he’d been this excited about a project. And he had to believe this was only the tip of the iceberg.

When Ned found them, Sansa had gone back to sorting documents and Stannis was engrossed in the little book. When Ned asked what they had found, Stannis eagerly showed him and watched as Ned’s face lit in excitement. He had periodically gone through some of the records that he’d found over the years, but he had an amateur’s interest and his brain wasn’t trained like the two dedicated people in front of him. Ned’s eyes misted briefly as he wondered if their children would take after their parents. He loved his grandson, but the thought of Sansa having a baby made him tear up. 

“Are you sure that we can take these records with us?” Stannis asked again. He thought of his smaller library, which was not small by anyone’s standards, and he thought that they could easily accommodate the records there. There was also a small adjoining room where they could store the documents that they had already been through. He wondered what might also be at Storm’s End. It had been years since he’d been through all that was stored there. It was probably the right time to bring it all up, and with Sansa as a second set of eyes, and a new focus for his book, he might find something he’d previously missed, or forgotten was there.

Ned nodded and said he trusted Stannis with the records more than anyone.

“Oh, Sansa, I forgot to tell you, Robb, Jeyne and Alex are coming for dinner,” Ned said, and he saw Sansa nod. When she asked what he had planned for dinner, he waved a vague hand and said that they’d throw some steaks on the grill and Sansa looked slightly horrified. She put down the stack of papers she was working on and shook her head at her father, glancing at her watch.

“Dad, that is no way to treat guests,” she admonished him, and he laughed, giving her a big hug.

“It’s Robb, and Jeyne sweetie. They don’t stand on ceremony.”

Sansa frowned at that statement. It was true that Jeyne wasn’t from what you would call an affluent family. In fact, she came from a single mother who’d been a waitress her whole life. When her and Robb had hooked up and she’d become pregnant, Sansa knew her Dad and Robb had some major fights. She also knew that her Dad had forced Robb to make her sign an airtight pre-nuptial agreement before getting married. The Stark’s might not be billionaires, but Ned wasn’t losing his family’s ancestral home and wealth to a woman he didn’t know or trust.

Since that rocky start, things had smoothed over a bit with the family. The baby, Alex, had helped. He was five now, and Sansa wondered if they would ever have another child. She thought maybe that ship had sailed for them and felt almost bad for Alex being an only child. She knew that Jeyne had never really felt comfortable around the other wealthy Northern families that the Starks were friends with, and it caused a lot of strain in their marriage. At twenty-eight, she worried that Robb would be the first married and first divorced in their family.

Stannis must have caught a look in her eye, because as soon as she’d made it to the kitchen to prepare for dinner, he’d come to her side and asked her what the issue was. She explained everything and he frowned. He could understand Ned’s reservations; he’d often been the subject to a gold digger sniffing around him and he was grateful that only Robert had fallen victim to one, even though Cersei Lannister came from as much money as they did.

“Is she after money?” Stannis asked, worried about his friend and his lover’s family. He'd known that there had been some tension between Ned and his oldest son, but his friend had been mostly tight-lipped about it.

Sansa sighed. “No, I don’t think so. She’s a really nice girl, but I think they just made a mistake and now are kind of…. Stuck together. And with their son in the middle, neither one wants to disappoint him.” Sansa frowned and Stannis wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so glad I found you,” she said quietly, and he hummed his agreement. It had been worth the wait for the right person to come along, Sansa thought.

She went to find her Dad and caught him out by the grilling area, and she wrapped her arms around him. Her Dad gave the best hugs.

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” Ned asked. He’d watched her and Stannis for the past two days, and while his initial concerns over their ages had been valid at the time, he saw just how much they loved one another. They were very compatible people, and Ned had grown to love the idea that Stannis would soon be family. In some ways, Ned had become even closer to Stannis than he had been with Robert. Robert and he had been friends in their wild youth, but Stannis and he were much more similar people.

“I’m worried about Robb,” Sansa said quietly, and Ned nodded his agreement. He could see how unhappy his eldest son was. He’d never pushed Robb to marry Jeyne Westering; in fact, he’d told Robb he probably shouldn’t. It would have been hard, each of them co-raising their child but not being in a relationship, but this seemed worse somehow. The fact that Alex was a great kid made it even more awkward for everyone involved.

“I know, Sans,” Ned said, keeping her tucked against his side. He’d take as many hugs from his baby as he could get. He set down his beer and took Sansa’s hand. “I’m not sure what we can do for him. He’s an adult, and he seems determined to stay in his marriage even if they are unhappy.

“I know, Dad,” Sansa said and squeezed his hand.

“I’m so happy for you,” he told her, Ned said, smiling softly at her. “He’s a good man Sansa. A solid man. A man you can trust and build a life with.”

Sansa felt her eyes tear. “When did you know you loved Mom?” She knew the story of course; when she’d been a child it had been like her own real-life fairy tale, and then she'd heard it again at her mother’s funeral. Everyone in the North knew how much Ned Stark had loved Catelyn Tully.

Ned gave a soft chuckle. “As soon as I saw her,” he said and winked at her, thinking about what Stannis had told him when they'd first arrived.

Sansa grinned. “It’s not crazy? To love him so much, so soon?” She asked and her Dad shook his head.

“He’s right there with you, baby,” Ned told her and drew her in for a hug. She inhaled, loving her Dad’s scent; pine, scotch and soap.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him and he cupped her cheeks.

“I’ve only ever wanted you to find someone worthy of you Sansa. And Stannis Baratheon is that man. Any fool could see that,” Ned told her, and she nodded. She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and darted back inside to find Stannis.

He was back in the study, reading the Queen in the North’s diary. He glanced up when he saw her and smiled, setting the book aside. When she got close to him, he pulled her down to his lap and nuzzled her neck. He’d seen her speaking with her father and could see their bond. He hoped his own child would be that close with him one day. They sat there in silence for a bit, Stannis stroking her back, and Sansa playing with his sweater, until they heard a door open and a busy five-year-old’s bright voice.

“Papa Ned!” Alex cried and Sansa heard the grunt as her nephew must have launched himself into her father’s arms.

“Ready darling?” She asked, smiling at Stannis and he grunted. She kissed him and drew him to his feet.

They walked into the kitchen hand and hand to see pinched and angry looks on the faces of Robb and Jeyne and a happy Alex clinging like a monkey to Ned.

“Auntie Sansa!” Alex cried and scurried down Ned to hug Sansa. She easily picked him up and held him to her. She grinned and stroked his silky hair, a reddish blonde colour and curly like Robb’s. No matter the status of Robb’s marriage, she loved Alex with her whole heart. Suddenly, Alex realized there was a stranger there, and he shyly pushed his face into Sansa’s neck.

“Who’s that?” He asked and Stannis gave him a tentative grin. It knocked him back seeing this child in Sansa’s arms. He felt a lump in his throat thinking that one day if she said yes to his proposal, it might be their child clinging to her.

“This is my special friend. His name is Stannis,” Sansa said quietly. “He’s very nice and guess what?” Sansa said, making her eyes wide.

“What?” Alex asked.

“He lives in a castle!” Sansa said excitedly.

Alex’s eyes popped open. He loved everything to do with knights, horses and castles. It was his latest obsession.

“Really?” He asked and reached for Stannis. He shimmied down Sansa, his entire attention on the new man who loved the things he did, shyness was forgotten in an instant.

Stannis awkwardly nodded and Alex took him by the hand to show him his toys that he had in the family room adjacent to the kitchen. Stannis sent Sansa a helpless look and she grinned and made a shooing gesture with her hand.

When the two of them had left the room, she and Ned were laughing, and Robb was glaring at her.

“Wow, San, never thought you’d sell out for a rich old guy,” Robb said, a sneer on his handsome face.

“Robb!” Ned barked, instantly angry with his son.

Robb held up a hand and angrily opened a beer, taking a deep drink.

“Don’t be an ass,” Sansa told him and gave Jeyne a tight smile. She left the kitchen to go and rescue Stannis and prevent herself from having a huge fight with her brother. When she went into the family room, she found her lover sitting in his very expensive suit, cross-legged on the carpet, giving a very detailed lesson to Alex on where he should place his knights to maximize their usefulness to defend their castle. 

“Knights are good for sneak attacks, or when two armies have similar numbers,” he was telling a fascinated Alex. Sansa watched as Alex crawled into Stannis’s lap and her man adjusted so they could sit comfortably together, Stannis wrapping a strong arm around the small child.

“In a Castle, there is often a first line ofdefencee such as a moat, trenches, or a heavy wall,” he was telling him. “You want to keep as many of your men behind the Castle walls for as long as possible. A good Castle can withstand a siege for months, provided the men inside have enough provisions.” Alex was enraptured and snuggled deeper into Stannis. 

"What are the provisions?" Alex said, struggling a bit with the new word. 

"Food, water, ammunition, weapons," Stannis was saying, pointing to various places in the toy Castle where Alex could store provisions for his knights. Alex nodded solemnly, completely enraptured by Stannis and the single-minded attention he was paying to him. 

Sansa felt her ovaries explode; she knew at that moment she wanted several children with Stannis. Three or four at the very least. She had no doubts that he would be an excellent father and she could see her future clearly. And the future she wanted was their child, sitting on Stannis’s lap as he took his time to patiently explain things to them.

“Hey guys, can I join?” She asked softly and two sets of eyes turned to look at her as if startled and that they had just realized she was there. She could see that Stannis had already fallen under Alex’s spell and they nodded so she joined them on the carpet, happily snuggling up to Stannis. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and Alex wiggled away, busy making noises with his toys.

“I want this,” Stannis whispered to her, his eyes never leaving the child.

“Oh gods, me too,” she said and smiled at him. He nodded tightly, too overcome with emotion, clasping her hand tightly to his.

When they were called for dinner, Stannis and Sansa walked into the kitchen hand and hand, both with loving looks on their faces. Ned smirked and knew he’d have another grandchild within a year. Maybe a year and a half depending on when they set the wedding. Either way, he knew that Sansa would say yes to Stannis Baratheon's proposal.

Dinner was salvaged because Stannis, Sansa, Ned and Alex carried the conversation. Robb drank his way through supper, and Jeyne sat there sullenly. 

Later that night, after Stannis had made love to Sansa with an intensity that drove them both wild, he stroked her back and thought about his perfect proposal he’d had planned for this weekend. He knew it had to be under the tree where she had told him that she could love a man like him, and he wondered how long she’d want their engagement to be. He knew it was important she finish her schooling but sitting with Alex had been a revelation for him. He’d always objectively wanted a child, but today was the first time he had interacted with one so intimately. He thought that Robb Stark was a fool; drinking and fighting with his wife while such a curious and delightful son was eager for his attention. He could never imagine Sansa ignoring a child of theirs the way that Robb and Jeyne were. He didn’t care what their issues were; the child should always come first. That night Stannis dreamed a Castle full of his and Sansa’s children and it was everything he'd ever wanted.

_The Next Morning_

Sansa was hugging Ned and promised that they would be back in a few weeks for Thanksgiving. Stannis frowned, thinking she must have the dates mixed up, when he remembered that the North celebrated the holiday the second weekend of October and not late November as they did in the south. It would be pleasant to be back at Winterfell, and Stannis could see that Sansa’s comment made Ned happy. He shook Stannis’s hand and gave him a wink, and Stannis nodded. He was planning on asking her this weekend. Ned was having all the boxes shipped to Storms End, so they could continue their research. Stannis didn’t want to make any other plans to visit other castles until they knew what they had from Winterfell. Their most prized possession, the historical Sansa Stark’s diary was tucked into Stannis’s carry on.

Things were going according to schedule, when Stannis’s phone buzzed just as they pulled into the airport. He parked the vehicle and glared at his phone, reading the emails that had just been sent by his lawyer.

“Fuck,” he swore, and Sansa’s eyes widened.

“Problem?” She asked and he nodded.

“Joffrey and Cersei Lannister,” he practically spat. He looked and saw her confusion and explained the whole mess to her. He sighed. “Now he’s threatening to take me to court, claiming that even though he is not Robert’s biological child, Robert raised him and therefore he is entitled to Robert’s share of the company.” His mouth was a thin line. He shot a look to her and saw nothing but support on her face.

“What can you do?” She asked.

“My lawyers want to meet with them today, in Kings Landing. The sooner we make it absolutely clear he will get nowhere then hopefully, the sooner this all goes away,” Stannis said. “I’m sorry, but we need to make a detour.”

Sansa reached over and grasped his hand. “It’s fine Stannis. I can work anywhere,” she said. “I’m assuming there is some type of hotel room we can get…”

Stannis laughed a bit. He kept a fully stocked and well-appointed penthouse suite in one of the luxury high-rises downtown and told her that. He thought it was adorable when her eyebrows rose.

“Well, ok,” she said and then she nodded. He leaned over and kissed her. He wondered how long it would take her to adjust to his wealth.

“This is sure to be the most unpleasant thing I’ve had to do in a very long time. It means the world to me that you will be something to look forward to after this meeting,” he told her, and she smiled and cupped his cheek.

“Always, darling,” she told him, and they boarded the plane. When they landed in Kings Landing, Stannis had a car service pick them up and deliver them to his penthouse. Sansa tried not to let her jaw hit the ground, but it was difficult. Once again, she was confronted with just how wealthy and successful Stannis was and it was slightly overwhelming.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “It’s just things, love.”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. And gasped when the door to the penthouse opened and she had, she swore, the best view of Kings Landing in the entire city. The penthouse was modern, sleek and masculine, but the true showstopper were the floor to ceiling windows that showed the entire city, including a great view of Blackwater Bay.

“Stannis,” she said, mesmerized and pressed her hands up against the glass.

He came up behind her and snuck a hand around her waist, drawing her back slightly and against his body, leaning his chin down to rest on her shoulder.

She turned her head slightly and kissed him. “It’s stunning,” she told him, and he agreed, although he was looking at her, and not the city. He hated Kings Landing; nothing good ever seemed to happen in this wretched city.

He pulled her hand away from the windows and gave her a quick tour. Nothing was off limits and she was sure she was gasping like a fish out of water more than once as he showed her the suite. The bed was huge; even bigger than the one at Storms End and she shook her head at the decadence of it all. Before he showered again and dressed for his meeting, Sansa told him that while the penthouse was stunning, she still liked his castle better.

He barked out a short laughed and cupped her face. “So, do I, love,” he told her, and she grinned. She was planning on curling up with a good book, her research and her laptop in front of the huge gas fireplace in the living room. It wasn't Storm's End, but it would do for an afternoon. She wished him luck, and he grimaced, and then said he would see her in a couple of hours.

She was lost in the world of Argella when she heard Stannis come back in and he looked utterly spent. He sat down heavily next to her and scrubbed a hand down his weary face.

“I hate those two,” he said without preamble and Sansa snuggled in closer to him, wrapping her body around his. “I honestly hate them.” He let out a sigh.

“Bad meeting?” she asked, and he shook his head. He’d kicked off his expensive shoes and was loosening his tie, keeping his arm wrapped around her. She was the only good thing in this entire shit afternoon.

“They are insane, but persistent and could make an awful situation worse,” he stated. He settled deeper into the sofa and held her closer. “He won’t give up his claim and unfortunately, there is some justification. Robert did raise him as his son. My argument, that my brother didn’t know Joffrey wasn’t his because his whore of a mother was fucking someone else, did not go over well with the Lannister’s.”

Sansa said nothing. She had disliked Cersei Lannister from the moment she had met her and didn’t like her son much either.

“Uncle Robert really had no idea?” She asked and Stannis jolted a bit at hearing her call Robert her Uncle. Then he remembered how close Robert had been to Ned and his family when the children were younger. Stannis had been busy saving the family business and securing their Castle to be socializing with the Starks and Lannister’s back then.

“I don’t know, Sansa,” Stannis said. “I know it came as a shock when they were in their accident, and I just happened to be at the hospital. Robert’s reaction certainly seemed genuine. It would help if I could find out who she slept with to make that awful child,” Stannis mused, and Sansa shuddered at such nasty business. “Still, I won’t roll over and die. I’ll fight that little bastard to the highest court in the country if necessary. He’s absolutely useless and even if he gets half of Robert’s shares, he will make my life miserable.”

Sansa just sat and gave him her support. She didn’t like these people and she could see his frustrations. She kissed him and told him to sit and relax. She pulled out her phoned and placed and order for take-out, knowing by now, what Stannis liked.

“Come on,” she said and pulled him to his feet. She brought him to his massive bathroom in the penthouse and filled a bath with some of the assorted bubbles she found and started to undress him. While she knew there had never been a woman at his place in Storms End, she wasn’t sure about here and didn’t want to know.

“What are you doing, love?” He asked her.

“Taking care of you,” she said, and his heart exploded.

“Sansa,” he said, carding his hands through her hair.

“Let me,” she told him, and he nodded, kissing her deeply.

They undressed each other and climbed in the bath, Stannis opening his arms so she could sink into them. He traced her body with his hands, loving how the bubbles skimmed her porcelain skin. She was so beautiful, and he pushed her hair off to the side so he could kiss her neck. He hummed his appreciation for her, enraptured by all she was.

“Thank you,” he said, after a time and she twisted so she could smile at him.

“Always,” she responded, and he knew it was true. He knew their dinner was on its way, so he eventually rose and drew her out of the tub with him, drying her off and handing her one of his shirts and asked if she had any more of those cute underwear he liked. She laughed and nodded. She grabbed a lacy pair and saw his eyes narrow in lust. She winked at him and watched as he put on some comfortable pants and a soft cotton t-shirt. She felt the low hum of sexual tension between them, and it was delightful knowing that they would satisfy each other that way in a short time, once they had eaten. Everything between them was so natural and yet exciting, and it was the most perfect relationship Sansa had ever had.

When the door chimed, Stannis went to pay for their food, and brought it back to the living room. They fed each other bites of sushi, and drank a bottle of wine, and Stannis knew he’d never loved anyone as much as he did her in that moment. He thought about a mere month ago when he would have come home, alone, and brooded. He would have been angry and frustrated. And lonely. So, fucking lonely. Looking at her, he knew he’d never be alone again. She would always be there by his side.

Once they were done their dinner, Sansa cleaned up and they walked hand in hand to the bedroom.

“It’s only ever been you,” he whispered as his hand skimmed up her slim stomach. “Here and Storms End. In my homes, it’s only ever been you in them,” he told her and saw something akin to relief come into her face.

“Good,” she said, and he nodded. It was good. He was glad that she was the only one that got this piece of him. He unbuttoned his shirt from her body, peeling it off her to see her in those cute little underwear and nothing else.

“Gods, baby,” he growled..

“Stannis,” she moaned, carding her hands through his hair. He stood abruptly and picked her up and brought her to the bed. He loved to spend hours worshiping her body, but he felt the tension in himself and the raging desire. He didn't have time to wait tonight. He reached down to feel if she was ready for him, knowing he hadn’t given her the foreplay she deserved, and she nodded.

“I want you,” she said. He shucked off his pants and t-shirt and surged into her, fitting his lean body over hers.

“Wrap those legs around me,” he commanded her, and she hurriedly complied and then hung on, while Stannis thrust in her, nipping and sucking at her neck. She arched into him, making her scream his name and quickly emptying himself into her. Breathing hard, he kissed her, and murmured how much he loved her. She was everything to him, and he had never been so grateful than he was tonight that she was in his life. Snuggled up to him, Sansa was pleased she’d been able to give him comfort and love, and knew that together, they could handle anything that came their way.

“I love you,” she murmured sleepily to him and felt him kiss her and mumble the words back, letting them both drift off to sleep, content in one another’s arms.


	14. Proposal

Stannis was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee, dressed casually for a Saturday morning, thinking about the meeting he’d had yesterday afternoon. A part of him couldn’t believe that Joffrey would be so bold to come after him for Robert’s shares of the company, but then he realized he really shouldn’t be surprised. The Lannister's were the vilest creatures; willing to do whatever it took to stay on top, to use whomever they could. He never understood why Robert had married Cersei in the first place. Stannis wasn’t even sure they had ever even cared for one another at the time of their wedding. He supposed Robert might have thought it would do something for their business, but Stannis had been the one to ensure that the family business continued to be profitable; not the Lannisters no matter how much the Old Lion might have wished to get his hands on their company those first few years. It had been Stannis's determination that had prevented them from being swallowed by Tywin Lannister.

He forced himself to stop thinking about them and their viciousness. His lawyers would deal with it as they had ever other Lannister issue that had come up. Stannis would also have to hire someone to look into investigating who Joffrey’s biological father was. It hadn’t mattered before, but it certainly did now. He knew if he didn't stop thinking about them, it would ruin his weekend. And he wanted nothing to stand in the way of him proposing to Sansa Stark.

Sansa was showering, and then they would leave to go back to Storm’s End. Even this short amount of time in Kings Landing had reminded him just how much he disliked the city. Although having her to come home to after such an awful afternoon had made things much better. Stannis was just about to take Sansa her first cup of coffee when he heard the knock on the door. He had no idea who might want to speak with him here; let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. He let out a sigh when he saw Cersei standing on the other side of the door and opened it slightly.

She raised an elegant eyebrow at his apparent rudeness at not inviting her in, and then pushed past him to enter the penthouse. She had never been here, and he was surprised she even knew about it. He’d never allowed Robert access to this space, sure if he had he would have brought some cheap date here and sullied the space. He observed her objectively and saw that she was here to make a deal if the revealing clothing was anything to go by. He turned and positioned himself behind the huge kitchen island, determined to give her no chance.

“What do you want?” He ground out.

He watched as she lowered her lashes and bit at her lip, and he wondered if these things had enticed men before. He felt absolutely nothing for her aside from an acute loathing.

“Stannis,” she purred, leaning against the island. “Surely Robert wouldn’t want there to be this animosity between us,” she said, and he shook his head at her antics. He barked out a short, harsh laugh.

“Robert hated you. I’m sure he’d want nothing more than for me to ensure nothing came to you or your ill-gotten son,” he told her and saw her reel back in anger. He watched, slightly impressed, as she pushed it ruthlessly down and once again tried to be seductive. She just looked cheap. And old, he realized. She was close to fifty at this point in her life, and while she had been beautiful in her youth, time, alcohol and anger had carved her face into a granite mask. He felt nothing but contempt for her. Compared to Sansa, she was last weeks' news, and he felt a surge of pride in the woman he had chosen to be by his side. She would never conduct herself in such a manner, he was sure.

“There must be some resolution we can come too,” she said, in a voice he was sure was trying to be seductive but which he knew was fake and forced

Of course, at that moment, Sansa came around the corner and spotted Cersei Lannister batting her eyes at Stannis, who was standing rigid and implacable behind the kitchen counter. It took her all of thirty seconds to size up the situation, and she wasn't going to be pushed around by Cersei. And her lover looked like he could use her help.

“Darling,” she purred and walked directly towards him. She grasped his face in her hands and kissed him, long, deep and possessively. When she finally came up for air, she looked in his eyes. “Good morning, lover,” she said, and she saw the small quirk of his lips. He reached an arm around her, and drew her to his side, proclaiming to Cersei that they were, quite obviously, a couple.

“Oh, Mrs. Baratheon,” she said, using Cersei’s maiden name and making her sound like a soccer mom. “I’m sorry, how rude. I didn’t know you were stopping by.” 

Cersei Lannister seethed in outrage. She’d heard nothing that Stannis had somehow snagged himself Sansa Stark. She had hoped that perhaps if Joffrey weren’t able to secure a marriage with Margaery Tyrell that the northern woman might be a suitable backup. Her family, while not nearly as wealthy as the Tyrell’s, came from excellent stock. There was no one in the entire country that had a pedigree quite like Sansa Stark. Cersei had hoped to take back some of the Baratheon fortunes and then see Joffrey properly wed.

“Sansa, dear,” Cersei said and shook her head. “I’m shocked at the scandal this will cause when word gets out that you’re sleeping with a man old enough to be your father.”

Sansa threw her head back and laughed and then shot Stannis a cheeky look. “The scandal darling, whatever will we do?” Then Sansa turned to Cersei and gave her a hard look. “My father knows, and that’s all that matters. There isn’t anyone else that would care.”

“Ahh but perhaps that’s not entirely true,” Cersei said smugly. “I’m sure Stannis’s shareholders might not look too kindly on such an affair.” She shook her head. “And at a time when they are being reminded of how cruelly Joffrey was cut from his father’s will.”

“Get. Out.” Stannis barked to her and walked to open the door. Cersei sauntered out and tapped Stannis on the cheek before she left. She leaned in and whispered, “This isn’t over.”

Stannis fairly slammed the door on her and shook his head. He could not, for the life of him, ever understand why Robert had married her. When he went back into the kitchen, he found Sansa standing eerily still, worrying her lip. He drew her into his arms and asked what was wrong.

“Was she correct? Will this cause problems with your Board?”

He shook his head and kissed her softly. “No, love, it won’t. I’ve made all of them millions over the years. They know me, trust me and are loyal to a fault. None of them want a thing to do with Joffrey or Cersei,” he told her, and she nodded, willing to believe him.

“I never really thought about how other’s might see us,” she said quietly, and he cocked his head. “I mean, we spent so much time at Storm’s End, and then Winterfell. I guess I didn’t think about the outside impact. First Robb said something, now Cersei.”

Stannis took her hand and kissed it gently. “None of that matters, Sansa. Not to me. My wealth will always make me the subject to gossip. Your pedigree and name will do the same for you. If we let these people, these gossips and jealous people affect us, they can ruin our whole lives. I’ve never cared what anyone has thought about me. I’ve always just done what was correct.”

“Are you sure?” She asked and he nodded.

“Very sure,” he told her, and she smiled.

“I think she was trying to seduce you, Stannis,” Sansa said, a slight grin on her face. He grimaced at that thought.

“I’d rather be celibate the rest of my life,” he said, and she saw the truth in his eyes.

She laughed and kissed him. “Well, that’s not happening.”

Within the hour they were on their way, to the airport to the quick flight back to Storm’s End. Sansa felt something settle over her at the thought of being back there. It was amazing how it had become home within a matter of weeks. She squeezed Stannis’s hand and could see he felt the same way. When they drove through the gates, she felt was if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and she knew that this was where she was meant to be. The weather, which last weekend had been so poor, had turned nice again, and big fat white clouds dotted the sky.

Entering the house, hand in hand, they were discussing their afternoon. Stannis had asked if she would be willing to go for another horseback ride, and she nodded eagerly. It was barely 11am and he’d called ahead so that Mayra had put together a lunch for them. Standing in the kitchen were their family, and Sansa swore three sets of eyes swiveled towards her left hand. She laughed at them all, hugging and kissing them. Cressen was showing them a photo Ned had sent him with Stannis, Sansa and Alex playing with the toys in the family room and gave Stannis a knowing look. They were all incorrigible. Stannis leaned in to whisper to Sansa that it had been the worst idea ever for her to give her father and Cressen each other’s numbers. She laughed brightly and shook her head.

When they got to their bedroom, Sansa dropped their bags and promised she’d unpack them tomorrow. She was eager to get going on their adventure, and changed quickly, Stannis following her into the closet to do the same. He might have been distracted by her state of undress, but he was too focused on asking her to be his wife. He knew that it was extremely quick, and he knew that she loved him, but still, he assumed that every man felt this way. Other than his books, and his success in business, this was the most important moment of his life.

After they had packed away the food that Mayra had made them, they began the journey, and Sansa smiled when she realized where they were going. There was just something so lovely about being back on the land that belonged to Stannis. She’d never really considered where her home might be once, she found someone she loved. Part of her had wondered if she would ever leave the North, because of her Dad and how close they were. It was funny to realize how much this place called to her, and soon enough, they were back at the ruin, and Stannis had spread a blanket for them. This time she did not hesitate to snuggle into his arms, and he willingly opened them to her. She sighed contently and looked at him.

“This is perfect,” she said and grinned and he agreed.

He kissed her then, slow and soft. “I wanted to kiss you so badly the first time we were here,” he said, and she saw how serious he was.

“Me too.”

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I knew the moment I saw you Sansa, that you were the one for me,” he continued, and her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh Stannis, I know exactly how you feel.”

She did. She remembered seeing him that first morning in Round Hall and knowing her was the one for her. Or at least hoping he’d give her a chance. Their romance had been a whirlwind; there was no denying that. She knew what she felt for Stannis, and she knew that they wanted the same things out of life. She could see no reason not to move forward with their life; together.

“When you said that you could love a man like me, Sansa, it gave me hope that I might have a chance with you. And everything that has happened since that first evening we spent together, has only confirmed to me how I feel for you,” Stannis said, voice and tone serious.

Sansa nodded and swallowed.

“I’m not a romantic man, but I can imagine one day, if we are lucky, and we have children, they might ask us where I proposed to you. And there isn’t a single place I could imagine, except for here, outside the ruins of a building that was built solely because a man loved his wife so much that the wanted privacy with her. I love you Sansa Stark, and I want you to be my wife,” Stannis said. He had angled his body so that they were facing one another, so she could look into his blue eyes, his handsome face, and see how much he loved her and how serious he was.

Sansa had imagined some vague future where some man she loved proposed to her. Often her fantasy had contained some outlandish and silly romantic gesture; something almost garish and childish now that she thought about it.

This proposal though, was everything. Because she knew the moment, she said yes, that would be it. Stannis Baratheon was not a man who would ask her to marry him and then stop loving her, stop supporting her, stop being there for her. Stannis would be by her side, loving her for the rest of their lives. He would give her children and help her raise them; he would provide for them. He would help her and challenge her. This was a man that did nothing by half measures; a ring on her finger was almost as good as being married. He would consider her his, and him hers the moment she said yes. And she wanted it all. And all with him.

“Oh gods, yes, Stannis. A hundred, million times yes,” she said and threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. He let his heart and nerves calm, a feeling of rightness settling over him. She was his; the rest was a formality. He knew there would be a wedding. It would most likely be fancier and larger than he would prefer, but between Davos, Sansa, Cressen and Ned, he would do whatever they wanted. But that was largely just window dressing. Here outside these ancient ruins, he felt the power of the past, and knew that simple words and promises exchanged between two people had often been enough to seal them to one another for eternity. He’d waited his entire life for her, and now she was his.

He gently pushed her back and took out the ring. “I’ve asked your father, just so you know. And I wanted you to know that the ring, well, it was my mother’s. I know you love the past, and maybe you would want something new...”

Sansa smashed her lips to his. She hadn’t even seen the ring and she knew it would be perfect. She didn’t want something impersonal and without meaning. The fact that he was willing to put his mother’s ring on her finger meant everything to her.

“It will be perfect,” she said, and he smiled at her, and then opened the box and was happy to watch her jaw drop. It was a spectacular piece of jewelry and he could see that her hand was shaking slightly.

“Stannis,” she squeaked, and he slid it on to her third finger. It fit perfectly as he’d known it would. She held it up and stroked it, unable to believe that this was happening. It was stunning; a perfect round sapphire, surrounded by diamonds set in a slim platinum band.

“I love you so much,” she said and pressed herself against him again. He stroked her back and held her there, content in a way he’d never been before

Eventually, they ate lunch, smiling and laughing their way through the amount of food Mayra had packed.

When Stannis sat back against the tree, Sansa laid her head on his lap and he brought out the diary and began to read the passages that were the most interesting. Soon enough they had deciphered some of the code names. It seemed that Sansa had initially been engaged to Joffrey Baratheon; that much was public record. She wrote about a letter she was forced to send to her family, and worried it made her seem like a traitor after her father’s head had been taken. Her sister had disappeared, and she had been left alone.

Stannis shuddered to think of how vulnerable she had been. She called a man Mockingbird, and they were trying to figure out who that might be. Stannis thought it could be a man by the name of Littlefinger, a known political corruptor in the court at that time.

“Where was your namesake at this time?” She asked him and he stroked her hair, looking into her blue eyes.

“Back on Dragonstone I’d imagine,” he told her. He snorted. “I can’t imagine any of this made him happy. Houses Tyrell and Lannister joining together to defeat him when he had the men and the ships to take back Kings Landing; knowing that a false King sat on his throne.” He sighed and massaged her scalp. “From what I’ve learned, he was sorely disappointed that he was given Dragonstone by Robert and Storm’s End was given to Renly.”

Sansa frowned. “How did it stay in your family then?

“During the War, it was rumoured that Stannis burned his daughter to satisfy a red priestess. I don’t believe he did but can’t prove otherwise. And no one knows where or how he died in the North. Regardless, with him and Shireen dead, there were no true Baratheons left. After the war, a bastard of Robert’s was legitimized and given Storm’s End,” Stannis said, his voice tight with distaste.

“From what I’ve read about Stannis Baratheon, I can’t imagine him burning his daughter; for any reason,” Sansa said, shaking her head at such an awful thought.

Stannis sighed. “I agree. From what I’ve found, he was hundreds of miles away, rallying Northern Houses to your family’s side, Sansa, trying to take back Winterfell from that bastard Ramsey Bolton. I believe that the Bolton’s and houses disloyal to the Stark’s, cicurated the rumor about Stannis to weaken his, and the Stark position in the North. Who would willingly back a man that burned his own child?”

Sansa nodded. It made sense. It would really be something if they had another one of her diaries. They spent another hour together, reading and discussing the book. Sansa cried when she heard about her namesake being forced to marry, but was astounded to learn that her husband, the Lannister dwarf did not force himself on his wife. They had made it to the end of the dairy and learned that Sansa had fled to the Vale with the man she called Mockingbird, and Sansa and Stannis both agreed that had to be Petyr Baelish.

“How did she end up going from the Vale, where she would have been protected by her Aunt, to married to Ramsey Bolton in the North?” Sansa asked, somewhat bewildered. Stannis shook his head. He had no answers. Yet.

“I’m sorry we haven’t really found out much about the motivations at the end of the war.”

Stannis shrugged. He was enjoying the process as much as he’d ever enjoyed writing. He didn’t need the money, and this was much more pleasurable. “I knew this wouldn’t be a fast process. I asked Davos to start to gather all the Baratheon records and deliver them to the library as well.” He saw her face light at that idea.

“How is your research coming along?” He asked and she twisted so she could look at him easier. She had discovered so much about Argella and she had so much respect for the woman.

“I think her husband loved her, or at least respected her,” Sansa said softly. “When she was brought to him, naked, chained and betrayed, it is said that he unchained her himself, and wrapped her in his cloak. From all accounts, they had a happy marriage, which was rare at that time. Orys even took her family’s sigil and words as his own.”

When they had lingered long enough under the tree by the ruin, Sansa and Stannis made their way back to the Castle. Stannis grimaced as he wondered if they could sneak by their three elderly companions and straight to their room, but Sansa shook her head.

“We have to tell them, Stannis,” she said. She’d glanced down at her left hand at least a hundred times since he’d slid the ring on her finger. She knew it would never get old seeing it there. 

“Are you sure?” He grumbled but she could see the faint pride in his face. He had to know how much they loved him and wanted him to be happy.

“I’m sure.”

He clasped her hand to his, and they entered the kitchen. Cressen’s eyes immediately spotted the ring, and his face lit up in delight. He whipped out his phone and snapped a picture and then hugged them both. He congratulated Stannis on finally finding the one, and embraced Sansa and once again welcomed her to the family. Davos and Mayra were equally effusive in their praise, and the five of them spent a pleasant evening together, eating and drinking until Stannis finally pulled her away from them.

“They’d keep you to themselves,” he muttered, a bit perturbed. When they got to the Tower, Sansa pulled out her phone and called her father, and Ned beamed. He told Stannis that he’d done well, and called him son again, much to Stannis’s chagrin.

It had been a long day, starting with an unpleasant visit from Cersei and ending with the most delightful bath where Stannis wrapped her in his arms and washed her, touching her body and stroking the desire in them both.

He loved to kiss the back of her neck and down her spine; she always let out the most delicious little shiver when he did that, and he couldn’t help but feel his pride swell that he could make a woman like her react to him in such a way. He let his hands cup her breasts and rolled her nipples, so they hardened and murmured in her ear how much he wanted her.

“I’m yours,” she said, breathless and needy and he grunted at how true that statement was. She wore his ring; she’d be his wife. And hopefully, she’d take his name and give him children.

He drew her from the bath and dried her off, taking twice as long as it usually would because he couldn’t help but suckle and nip at her.

“Please,” she whimpered, and he finally took pity on her and brought them to their bed. He took a moment to drink her in. She rose up on her elbows and gave him a look, and he nodded.

“Tomorrow you won’t rush me, and I’ll take all the time I want with you,” he muttered into her ear, and she chuckled and then moaned as he surged into her. She wrapped her legs around his slim waist and leaned up to nip at his ear.

“You’re mine, Stannis,” she told him, and he agreed. He would only ever be hers. He’d never given much thought as to what it might mean to belong to someone else, but now he could imagine nothing else.

“And you’re mine,” he rumbled into her ear, finding that sensitive spot and driving her wild. He let his hand drift lower to bring her over with him. He knew his end was close, and he wanted her there with him. When she panted out his name and shuddered around him, he allowed himself to find his release as well, collapsing onto her, as she welcomed his weight.

“It’s always so good,” she murmured, stroking his well-defined back. He made some inarticulate sound and then dragged them under the covers. Sansa cuddled in his arms, and he touched the ring on her finger, happy that they could now start to plan the next steps in their life.

“I’m so glad you suggested I stay at Storm’s End,” Sansa said, a giggle to her voice. They both knew he’d been a standoffish ass the first week.

“Thank Cressen,” he said wryly and knew he owed his eldest companion everything for insisting she stay here.

Sansa giggled again, almost beyond happy. “I think he has a wedding app on his phone,” and heard Stannis groan. Between him and her father, he might get away with merely showing up. Hopefully.

“Go to sleep, love,” he told her and felt her do that little wiggle she was so fond of before she found her spot. He wondered briefly how it was that she was so perfect for him, and then he pushed the thought from his mind. She was here, in his home and his bed and had his ring on her finger. He wouldn’t waste time questioning how it had all come to be. Not when he was finally this happy with his life.


	15. A Perfect Day

Stannis woke early on Sunday and slipped from bed. He knew that Sansa would sleep for a while; she seemed to need more than him and it was the weekend. It gave him the perfect chance to grab a sketch pad and some pencils and draw her. He hoped it would be seen as romantic and not creepy. When he’d left the bed, she had spread herself out and he had the perfect view of her face.

On his way to gather his supplies, he’d noted that he had in fact been able to sleep without unpacking their things the previous evening, and that being with Sansa filled his days in ways that had previously have been long and lonely. Before he’d had his work and his books, and he’d had Davos and Cressen, but he hadn’t had her.

Stannis glanced as the slightly messy room and noted all the things that made it Sansa. A brush here, and a sweater left folded over a chair. Her laptop next to his. A coffee cup that she loved. Slippers. Some flowers she’d picked and brought to their room. Pictures of her family in frames that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Two wine glasses in the sink instead of one. Now that she had said yes to his marriage proposal, this would be their life. This and more. Because he knew he wanted children with her, and hopefully in the future there would be even more mess and that would mean that his family lived here.

Once he was back in their bedroom, he lost himself in the moment of capturing her as the sun crawled over the horizon. He'd become so engrossed in his drawing that he hadn’t even realized she had stirred. She cupped her head and watched him for a time. She felt her heart race each time she looked at him and hoped that never ended. Whatever he was doing, it had his full attention, and Sansa knew what that felt like from Stannis. It was heady to have someone that devoted to you and your needs. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met, and she watched as it looked like he was drawing on the big pad of paper he had in his lap.

Eventually, his blue eyes looked up and pinned hers.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he said and shook himself slightly. “I have something to show you.”

He appreciated that she just nodded and sat up in bed. He handed her the sketch and her mouth dropped open. She reverently traced her own face on the paper, and her eyes filled with tears.

“Stannis,” she breathed, finally risking a glance up at him, tearing her eyes away from the drawing. “You are so talented.”

“You like it?” He asked, tentative. He’d so rarely shared this part of himself with anyone.

“Are you crazy? Like it? I love it.”

“I have something else to show you,” he told her, and she nodded eagerly. She set the drawing down, reverently.

Objectively he knew he was a decent artist, but there had never been anyone to share it with. He tucked Sansa’s hand in his and they padded down the hallway. She hadn’t even been to this section of the Tower and he opened a door to show her the space he’d turned into his art room. The light was natural, the huge windows allowing for him to sketch whenever he wanted. He opened a drawer and began to pull out some of the sketches. He found the one he’d done that first day at the ruin and silently handed it to her. He saw her eyes tear and she traced a finger down her face on this one as well. He showed her others; Fury and Cassey, Cressen and Davos. Storm’s End itself. He’d done a sketch off the description of the historic Stannis Baratheon. You could tell they were relatives, although the sketched man had less hair, an even more severe face and was clad in a doublet and sword from days gone by. Still, Sansa thought him to be handsome and competent and somehow Kingly, all from a simple drawing. All of Stannis's work showed an incredible amount of skill.

“Stannis,” Sansa said, shaking her head. She was overcome and had no words. He was truly, very talented.

“No one else knows,” he said. “Not really. But… if we are to build a life together, I thought…” he trailed off. He was at his most vulnerable with her right now.

“I won’t breath a word,” she said, and he knew she wouldn’t. “But you are incredible.” She went and wrapped her arms around him, and he pulled her close, hugging her tightly.

“Do you want to see the rest of the loft?” He asked her softly and she nodded. He showed her a few of the other rooms. When she asked why he had so many bedrooms on this floor, she had counted at least four in addition to their large one, he grinned ruefully and admitted it was because he wanted his children close. Sansa’s heart melted and she could already picture them there. It would be such a wonderful space to raise them in, and she was so excited as she looked down at her ring. A ring that said she already belonged to this amazing man by her side.

The whole morning was magical, and they wandered hand in hand back to their bedroom. Sansa pulled Stannis down onto the bed and drew off his t-shirt. She did the same to hers and she watched as his eyes flared with desire and love.

“Mine,” she said against his lip, and straddled him so that she was on top. Sansa had never had the desire or the confidence to take what she wanted in bed before she’d met Stannis. But now she wanted to show him just how much she loved him. She loved it when his eyes flared darker blue with possessiveness.

He reached up and tugged on her hair. “And because you are mine, does that mean you are going to take my name?” He asked, curious. “Become Mrs. Sansa Baratheon.”

She shook her head and saw a small flare of doubt in his eyes. “I’m going to become Dr. Sansa Baratheon,” she told him and saw his eyes warm at that.

“Ahhh yes, how can I forget? My very talented, very brilliant fiancé,” he murmured and brushed his fingers against her. She savoured that word; fiancé.

“Stannis,” she said, and he grinned.

“Go on then, take what you want,” he told her, and she nodded, sliding down onto him. She grinned at one point, thinking how similar it was to ride a horse. Eventually, though, the playful nature of their lovemaking turned more intense, and Stannis brushed his hands against that little bundle of nerves that had her panting.

“Is this what you need, love?” he asked her, and she whimpered and nodded, and he rubbed at her, watching as she came apart on top of him. He quickly flipped them over until he spent as well. They collapsed against each other and grinned; silly, stupid grins of two people madly in love with one another. Sundays were the day that Stannis allowed himself to be lazy and unscheduled, so it mattered not that they fell back asleep and made their way down to the main kitchen mid-morning

Mayra scolded them when the sauntered in.

“I’m not a restaurant, you know,” she said, wagging a wooden spoon at them and Sansa blushed but grinned.

“Oh, shut it, woman,” Davos said, having just come in from his rounds around the grounds Storm’s End. “Clearly, they’ve been busy, and they’re just engaged. Even you remember what that’s like, to be so newly in love.” Davos swatted her butt and kissed her soundly on the lips. She grinned.

“What’ll it be?” She said and before Sansa could say she’d have her porridge, Stannis put in a huge order. When she gaped at him, he shrugged.

“I’m hungry,” was all he said, and Davos slapped him on the back.

“I bet you are lad.” He winked at him and Stannis would have frowned, but he simply felt too good to admonish him this morning for such crudeness. 

Cressen came in and pulled up a seat next to Sansa.

“I’m trying to decide what is the best wedding app. There are several, all free of course, and they promise to make the day easy to plan. I’m debating between, _Weddinghappy_ or _Tie the Knot_,” he told her, and Sansa’s eyes widened. She’d hardly even had time to come to terms with the fact that she was engaged. She hadn’t told her sister or any of her friends about her engagement, only her father. And now Cressen was already panning the wedding. 

“Hmmm,” she said, at a loss and looked to Stannis who just shrugged and gave her a look as if to say she was in for it now. 

“Not to worry dear, I’ll show you how they work. I’ve downloaded them both,” Cressen said, patting her arm. He opened up the first app, and Sansa was astounded at the amount of information he’d already entered. Clearly, he had spoken with Ned Stark already if the tentative guest list was anything to go by.

“Cressen, enough,” Stannis finally said gently, seeing the slightly overwhelmed look in Sansa’s eyes. His friend lifted his eyes to him, and Stannis held up a hand. “I promise we won’t run away and get married in secret. But you have to let us discuss some basic things first. Date. Location. Type of wedding. Once we’ve done that, we will let you know,” Stannis said, and Sansa sent him a grateful look.

“Well don’t wait too long, or else all the best venues will be taken. It’s almost October and spring and summer are prime time for weddings,” he muttered, and Sansa frowned.

“Oh? Do you rent out Storm’s End for weddings? I thought the Castle remained entirely private,” she said and looked around.

Stannis swallowed. Hard. “No, we don’t rent the Castle out. I think Cressen was indicating we weren’t sure that you would want to get married at Storm’s End,” he told her. Sansa’s frown deepened.

“But it’s perfect. And it’s our home, Stannis. Where else would we get married?” She asked him, confusion marring her pretty face.

Stannis shook his head, undone by her. “I didn’t know if Winterfell was where you might want to be married. Or if there was something else entirely that you might want,” he said. He waved a hand. "A... what do you call them.... destination wedding."

Sansa smiled, shook her head and clasped his hand. They were seated beside one another. “The moment you asked I couldn’t imagine getting married anywhere but here, as long as that is alright with you,” she said and he smiled at her and then, despite the fact that there were other people present, pulled her onto his lap.

“Here is perfect.”

She could see the storm of emotion in his face and smiled and kissed him.

Cressen clapped her hands. “Excellent! Let me just add the venue. Now, my dear, about the date,” he said, and Stannis gave him a look. He was relentless.

“Next summer. I want to get my doctorate first,” she said, never taking her eyes from Stannis. “I hope that’s ok.” Her voice had quieted at the end.

“Of course,” he told her. It was very important to both of them.

“So, I guess this means I don’t have to leave Storm’s End after six months,” she said, grinning again and Stannis growled. 

“Just try,” he warned her and tightened his grip on her.

She laughed and cupped his face, kissing him again before Mayra put a huge brunch before the group. Sansa reluctantly stood and found her own chair, realizing she was famished as well.

“Speaking of my doctorate,” Sansa said between bites, “I need to either meet with my advisor or have her come here. I need to show her what I’ve found and even though I’ve sent her the first parts of my thesis, she needs to see the resources I’m using.”

“What is her name?” Stannis asked. He was sure she’d mentioned it that first week, but he’d been so enraptured by her, he’d hardly paid attention.

“Dr. Tarth,” Sansa said and watched as everyone around the table frowned. “What?” She asked and Stannis sighed.

“Dr. Tarth and I do not get along. She wrote her dissertation on Renly Baratheon, arguing he was the true King and heir to Robert. I denied her access to any records at Storm’s End, Sansa and I do not trust her.”

“Oh,” Sansa said, her eyes wide. She knew how Stannis felt about his namesake; she just hadn’t realized it had spilled over into the real world. “Alright,” she said softly and nodded. “Well, I can go there. It’s only four hours away. I’ll let Dr. Tarth know I can meet with her next week.”

Thanksgiving at Winterfell was three weeks away and Sansa needed to have this meeting to move forward in her thesis. The timing was perfect.

Brunch was subdued after that, and Sansa thanked Mayra profusely for cooking for them once again. Stannis frowned watching as Sansa wandered back towards the Tower and followed her. Something had changed after he’d told her how he felt for Dr. Tarth. 

He waited until they were in their bedroom and Sansa was unpacking their suitcases.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out and she turned her blue eyes on him.

“Why?” She wondered and he shook his head.

“For not wanting your advisor to come to Storm’s End.”

She sighed and sat on the bed. She looked at him and saw that he was standing almost as if he were waiting for a blow from her; verbally of course, not physically.

“Stannis this is your home and I never want anyone here that you don’t want to be,” she told him. “People don’t always get along.” She shrugged. “I’m more just thinking it sucks being away from you while I’m in Summerhall. That’s why I was quiet.”

He frowned. “Why can’t I come?” He asked and she looked a bit startled.

“You’d want to?” She asked, starting to get excited.

He nodded. “We could drive down, spend the night. You could meet with her, and then we could have dinner, do some shopping. It’s a lovely little university town, Sansa. I think you’d quite enjoy it.

“Oh, yes, that sounds perfect,” she said excitedly.

“I’ll book us a room,” he said, and she nodded, and then he walked over to her. The weather was holding and the helmet he’d ordered for her had arrived when they’d been in Winterfell.

“Now, Ms. Stark, how would you feel about a motorcycle ride?” He asked her, nuzzling her neck and pinning her body close to her. He felt her shiver at his words and was delighted

“Yes please,” she said, and he smiled

Sansa watched as Stannis rolled the bike out of the garage and climbed on board. He had on boots, jeans and his heavy canvas jacket. She was similarly attired. She slid her helmet on and clicked it and he motioned for her to sit on the back. Sansa had never had a single fantasy about a man and a motorcycle in her entire life. In fact, she couldn’t even say she liked them. Her cousin Jon had one, a black and silver Harley that was loud and that he’d babied since he’d first bought it. She’d never even sat on the damn thing, no matter how many times he said he’d take her for a ride. But seeing Stannis on a bike; she felt the lust bolt through her. She sunk down behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Hold on,” he told her, and she nodded and smiled

And then they were off. Stannis rode through back roads, over country bridges and through rolling hills and farmland. Sansa could see that fall was fighting to come in full force in The Stormlands with some trees already changing colours, while others clearly stubbornly held on to the green. They drove for hours, it felt like, and Sansa learned to lean into him, sticking to him like a vine. There was something so intense about being wrapped around him like this; everyone they passed could clearly see that they were a couple by their body language alone. Sansa loved it. When he finally stopped a tiny little village, he held her hand as they walked into a small coffee shop. She grinned when she saw the lemon cakes they had, and happily munched away at the table outside with her latte and treat. When the climbed back on she waved to the middle-aged woman who had served them and snuggled against his back. Each moment she spent with Stannis seemed more perfect than the next 

They roared back into Storm’s End as dusk was falling, and Sansa practically dragged him into the Castle. When they entered the kitchen, she gave Cressen and Davos a look.

“No,” was all she said before they could even speak, and they both grinned as she marched them past the two meddlers and right to their bedroom. She would feed her and Stannis later, in the Tower. She needed Stannis now. She jumped him the moment they got to their bedroom, tugging at his clothing, carelessly pulling hers off, letting it all drop into a mess at their feet. He felt the same desire coursing through his body for her. He matched her need for need

“Sansa,” he growled, reaching down to stroke his fingers through her curls, nuzzling and nipping at her. “On your knees Sansa,” he muttered, and she gladly complied, scrambling to do so on the bed. Stannis ran a hand down her curved spine and grasped her hips before he surged into her.

“Gods baby, what you do to me,” he mumbled, kissing her neck as he moved in her.

“Stannis,” she moaned and pressed back into him. He picked up his pace; they were both too on edge to drag this out. “Hurry,” she panted, and he willingly complied, stretching inside her until he felt her clench around him and scream his name, and he emptied deep inside her. Chest heaving, he licked the back of her neck and murmured into her ear and she arched into him again. When he finally got his wits about him, he carried her to the shower, adjusting the taps.

Sansa felt like her body was taffy; liquid and languid and deliciously soft. She kissed him and they washed each other until they banked their desire again and he settled her on the little stone bench and languidly made love with her again. When she peaked this time, she whispered how much she loved him, and he told her the same. Sated and content, Sansa wrapped herself in a huge sweater and stretchy leggings and went to find them some dinner. There wasn’t much to choose from; since they had come back, they’d taken their meals mostly in the kitchen with the family and hadn’t restocked their kitchen. She found a frozen pizza and grimaced but heated the oven. She did not want to leave their cozy little nest. Tonight, it would be just them. When Stannis found her, she was just taking the pizza out and she shrugged.

“It’s not gourmet, but…”

He kissed her; deeply. “I want you all to myself. I don’t care what I eat,” he said and then he grinned. “Well… on second thought…” and laughed when she hit him.

“How can you be ready to go again?” She asked in wonderment, both delighted and slightly overwhelmed by their need for one another.

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life Sansa,” he said, cupping her face and kissing her.

He made a fire to ward off the early evening chill, and they curled up on the sofa with bad pizza and each other. He loved to touch her; stroke her arm, cup her cheek, rub a hand on her back. When he saw her eyes start to close, he drew her hand and brought her back to bed.

She slipped in, naked and he brought her body close to his, her back against his chest. She wasn’t quite ready for sleep yet, and she arched back against him, finding him ready. He gently lifted a leg and sunk into her, murmuring in her ear how much he loved her, how she was perfect.

When she cried out his name, he let himself let go and came as well. She sleepily drew his arm over her stomach and held him to her.

“Perfect day,” she murmured, and he agreed, leaning down to kiss her one last time, before allowing himself to slip into sleep.


	16. Summerhall

Logically Sansa knew that there were things she should probably speak to Stannis about. The first was about Dr. Brienne Tarth. When Sansa had decided on her thesis topic, she had very few contacts in the south and had put her academic feelers out for a thesis advisor. She had been delighted when the woman had taken her on and thought nothing more of it. 

Hearing Stannis speak so poorly of Dr. Tarth, though, had Sansa reconsidering her advisor. Sansa knew that Stannis was fair to a fault. They’d spent hours discussing various historical people, places and events. She knew his brain was one of the sharpest she’d ever encountered. Sansa had pulled Dr. Tarth’s doctoral thesis, and it was as Stannis had said. Now Sansa was worried that she’d tied herself to a professor and a historian that would write an academic paper on a third son being the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. It made no sense.

Sansa was left wondering if her entire Ph.D. was now in jeopardy. And wondering how Dr. Tarth even got her paper published? When she pulled the panel that had evaluated Dr. Tarth, she realized that there had been a visiting professor from the Reach on the committee, as well as a few more junior staff members. They must not have held her to the same academic standards that others were. There was no way anyone could back such a ridiculous claim that Renly Baratheon had been the true heir to the Iron Throne; not when Stannis was the second son

Sansa didn’t know what to do. She knew she would have to meet with Dr. Tarth, and perhaps something could be salvaged. But Sansa wasn’t sure she wanted to be associated with her. Added to that, she didn’t want to speak to Stannis about it because she felt… stupid. She knew she could share her worries with him, but she felt young. And inexperienced that she had made such a mistake. She had just been so eager to study her subject, and so driven to come to Storm’s End, that she knew she hadn’t been diligent enough in picking her advisor.

Stannis was engrossed in going through both Stark and Baratheon records. The small room adjacent to the library where they worked daily was filled with boxes, and each day he spent hours combing through them. He was like a kid in a toy store, and Sansa smiled when he would find something promising. And as much as he was enjoying his research, Sansa was equally happy that he was coming with her to Summerhall.

Stannis had booked them a room at the nicest hotel in Summerhall, and they were scheduled to leave on Tuesday. From Summerhall, they would fly to Winterfell on the Friday to be there for Thanksgiving with her family for the weekend.

Stannis knew something was bothering Sansa. He was sure if it wasn’t him, or their wedding, or something to do with her thesis. The closer they came to leaving for Summerhall, the more he could see her anxiety. He tried to ask her about it, but she waved him off. She’d given him an outline of her paper, and he’d been able to help her narrow her focus, much as Cressen had suggested. She willingly took in his suggestions, and he’d even edited some of her chapters. She had an engaging tone when she wrote, and her work was sound, backed with historical facts and documents she’d had access to at Storm’s End. Still, Stannis could tell how much she cared about Argella, and even though it was an academic paper, the respect she had for the last Storm Queen came through in her writing. Stannis knew if she wanted, they could co-write books and be very successful. She would add a dimension to his writing that was lacking and would truly bring the people and places alive. He wasn’t sure what her goals were after she received her final degree; whether to teach, write or something else. They hadn’t discussed it yet, and he knew that was a topic that would need to be broached.

On Monday afternoon, after their walk around Storm’s End, the weather having turned much cooler now that they were well into October, Sansa was curled up reading by the fire and Stannis was going through yet another Baratheon box of records. He found if he alternated between Stark and Baratheon, his brain was more focused, and so it was with a degree of surprise that he stumbled upon a letter. Most of the records were dry, dull and added little beyond an understanding of the workings of each keep during that time. He had discovered, that overall, especially in the south, the time of Bran the Broken as King was filled with gaps of information, uncertainty, and dare he say it, even chaos.

The Dragon Queen, so aptly named because she enjoyed using fire to burn her enemies, had legitimatized a supposed bastard of Robert’s and named him Lord of The Stormlands. Unfortunately for the young man, named Gendry, he couldn’t read or write and knew nothing about running a castle, let alone an entire region like the Stormlands. He was said to have never married, although it is believed it was his son, Steffon that inherited Storm’s End and the title of Lord of The Stormlands when this Gendry Baratheon disappeared twenty years after Bran’s coronation. His son was only eighteen at the time. Very few records existed during that time from The Stormlands during Gendry’s rule, only that Ser Davos Seaworth, who had also served Stannis, came to help Gendry. Ser Davos testified before the lords of The Stormlands that Steffon Baratheon was a true born and legitimate Baratheon, and with Gendry having disappeared with a dark-haired woman known only as the Wild Wolf, the Storm Lords could not be picky. They risked open rebellion and possible annihilation if they did not accept Steffon Baratheon as their new Lord. Thankfully for all involved, Steffon Baratheon turned out to be a true leader and what the region needed to bring peace, stability and prosperity back to the land. It was during Steffon’s time that trade between the North and The Stormlands was established, and the independent Kingdom in the North lent its full support to the young Lord. That was all record.

Which was why when Stannis found the letter to Steffon from Queen Sansa in the North, he thought almost nothing of it. The North had prospered under the Queen. She created new trading partnerships with the Wildlings in the North, and with her sister, who had left Westeros to travel. What goods Lady Arya sent back to her sister helped fill northern coffers and the people were loyal to a fault to their Queen. She never married but had five children; twin boys, two girls and then a final child, years later; and all her children had the name Stark. Her firstborn son would inherit her Kingdom and rule the North for years after her death. But never had her consort and the father of her children been properly identified. Some called him the wise wolf, some the southern wolf. Some said he was a man from the Vale, other’s claimed he was a long-lost lord from an extinct northern house. Some claimed that the father of her children was none other than her cousin, Jon Snow, but Stannis doubted that. He was too famous and there had never been any evidence that he had ever come south again. Besides the Queen’s consort had been described as an older man and one who was seen by her side, always. It was said that she never married because a Stark was always required to be in Winterfell, and her children were all proclaimed Starks upon their birth.

Stannis had long admired such a woman that held a kingdom together by pure will and loyalty and had marvelled that she had been able to bend the Northerners’ to her will and have them accept her children as legitimate. Most houses couldn’t be picky after the wars had decimated entire regions for decades.

He glanced briefly at the letter, having found it stuck to a page that had an accounting of the stores at Storm’s End, and almost set it to the side, when a single word quickened his heart. Son.

“It can’t be….” He muttered and Sansa looked up from her reading.

“What is it?” She asked, intrigued. She saw that Stannis had an astonished look on his face.

He stood and brought her the letter. He’d read it twice and still couldn’t believe what he had in his hand. She read it once, and then again and raised her eyes to him.

“The Queen in the North’s son was Steffon Baratheon?” She asked, her eyebrows drawn in confusion. “But how?” She asked and Stannis shook his head.

The only known Baratheon alive at the end of the war was the bastard Gendry. And there had never been anything that had ever indicated that he had a relationship with the Queen in the North. Nothing. Many had speculated that the Queen’s sister, Lady Arya and the bastard blacksmith had a relationship, but never Lady Sansa herself. 

“Do you think it’s possible?” Sansa asked and Stannis shook his head.

“She never came south, and he never went North,” Stannis said, bewildered. “I just can’t see how…” his voice trailed off. “Gendry was never known to have taken a wife, although it was rumoured that every few years, for a month, a dark hair wolf would visit him. Most have assumed that it was Lady Arya. She became a well-known traveller. Her contributions from her travels to the North were well documented by Queen Sansa herself and she often spoke of how Arya visited both the South and the North when she came back to Westeros.”

“Then how?” Sansa said, still holding the letter. She read it again and knew, she knew, that this Steffon was the Queen’s son. There was a tone, a certain amount of love and shared history in the words that said this was no jape.

“What did the Queen name her children?” Stannis asked. He knew he knew their names, but his mind was reeling and for the life of him he couldn’t recall their names.

“Robb and Eddard, the twins. Catelyn and Cassandra, her two daughters. And Arlan,” Sansa said and then she groaned.

“Two of her five children had southern names, Sansa. Names from The Stormlands,” Stannis said, and she could see the excitement in his face.

“But how, Stannis?” She asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but… what if… what if Stannis didn’t die, alone in the woods as is claimed. What if he somehow survived?”

Sansa gave him an incredulous look. “I mean, it might explain things. But Stannis, we have no proof.” 

He nodded his agreement. He had no proof. Just a gut feeling and that wasn’t enough. A gut feeling and a letter from a long-dead Queen to her beloved son became the Lord of Storm’s End. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He kissed her then and cupped her cheeks.

“I know it’s not much. Hell, it’s hardly anything, Sansa. But it’s more than I had yesterday, and it lends credence to my theory that he didn’t burn his daughter, didn’t die somewhere alone in the North. Perhaps he survived,” Stannis said, and she nodded. 

“It’s also possible that this boy was her nephew, Stannis. That he belonged to Arya and Gendry and that she raised him as her son,” she said gently, and he nodded. He’d had the same thoughts.

“Even if that is true, we’ve never had proof of who his true parents were, Sansa. And right now, I’m holding a letter in which the Queen of the North claims that Steffon Baratheon, second of his name, Lord of The Stormlands, was her son. That is incredible,” he breathed, and she nodded.

They both knew the generation after the war was chaos. Ser Davos Seaworth had lasted less than a year at court before he’d come back to The Stormlands. Bronn of the Blackwater/Highgarden was killed within six months by other Reach lords. The Kingdom of Dorne declared its independence within two years of the treaty being signed and war once again came to the south. The Iron Islands simply faded into oblivion; Yara Greyjoy proving to be completely incompetent and unable to feed her people, raiding the Westerlands until Kevan Lannister finally killed her and smashed the Ironborn for good, making them a mere footnote in history. 

The Vale and the North fared better; both having competent rulers, along with the Riverlands. Both regions were almost slavishly loyal to the North, and the threat that the Vale and the Riverlands would break off to join the North was a constant strain on the Kingdom. This went on for years, King Bran and his hand Tyrion unable to gain any traction or prevent Dorne from breaking off, and prevent the Iron Born from attacking the Westerlands.

Still, it was exciting to find something new; like doing a puzzle and when you found a piece that you just knew fit, so did this. Not much was known about the Queen’s children except for her heir who ruled after her and Sansa was happy that Stannis was so excited by this new information.

That night in their room as she packed for them to be away for a week, Stannis couldn’t help but speculate and Sansa grinned at him. She’d bet he hadn’t had this much fun on a project in years. Later, when she was wrapped in his arms, he stroked her back and asked her if she was worried about her meeting with Dr. Tarth tomorrow. She shrugged and he squeezed her tighter and she finally told him her worries.

He reached over and flicked on a lamp and saw her worry her lip and the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. He cursed himself for being so caught up in his own project he’d missed her worry, but she waved a hand.

“I kept it from you,” she said and cast her eyes downward.

“Why?”

She sighed. “Because I felt stupid, I didn’t check into her more. And now I’m worried I’ve ruined my doctorate and that it is too late to find a new advisor. And…. I just…. I can’t explain it Stannis, but I just knew I would do whatever it took to be here. I had this need, this desire to be at Storm’s End that was so all-consuming,” she said.

“Ah love, come here,” he told her and cradled her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll meet with her tomorrow and assess the situation. I’m sure Cressen would have some advice if she’s not what you want. All is not lost, Sansa,” Stannis told her, and she sniffed and cuddled into him.

“You don’t think I’m an idiot,” she asked, only half-joking. 

“Gods, no, Sansa,” he said. He tilted her chin up to look her in her eyes. “I felt it the moment your father made the call. For years, I’ve been inundated with inquiries from authors, scholars, writers, historians, hell even movie director’s for access to Storm’s End and I’ve said no to all of them. But the moment your father phoned,” Stannis said and shrugged. “I knew I needed you here as well,” he told her, and she smiled.

“It’s just if I have to get a new advisor, it might delay my project, and Cressen and my Dad are set on a summer wedding,” Sansa said, and Stannis kissed her.

“It’s our day, Sansa. And we’ll do it when it works for us,” he said firmly, and she nodded and felt the weight leave her shoulders.

“Ok,” she grinned and snuggled deeper into him. For some reason, despite their massive bed, Sansa slept best when she was wound around Stannis. He turned off the lamp, happy she’d finally confessed what was bothering her, and prayed this Brienne Tarth wasn’t the idiot he thought she might be.

The next morning Stannis loaded their bags into the Land Rover. He insisted they take the large vehicle, and even though Sansa thought it was a bit of overkill, he would not be dissuaded. He’d told her that sometimes even in early October there could be snow and it was better to be safe than sorry. Sansa rolled her eyes at him but was secretly delighted by his worry for her safety.

Cressen and Davos waved goodbye to them, and they were on their way. Sansa enjoyed the drive; the fall foliage was in full bloom and she had Stannis all to herself. He reached over at one point to hold her hand and she smiled at him. When they pulled into Summerhall, Sansa felt the nerves come back. It was a sleepy university town, only about thirty-thousand people, lots of old buildings and cute houses. The hotel that Stannis booked them was the nicest one in the town and Sansa watched as Stannis pulled up to the front and handed his keys to the valet. He grasped Sansa’s hand and slipped some cash to the concierge to put their luggage in their room. Of course, he had booked the nicest suite and Sansa kissed him softly.

“Stannis, it’s too much,” she said gently, and he shook his head at her. He loved being able to share his wealth with someone for the first time in his life.

Sansa had asked Stannis to come with her for her meeting with Dr. Tarth. She knew that it was slightly unprofessional of her, but she was concerned about keeping the woman as her advisor. She felt that if she had a second set of eyes and ears, she might get a better idea of if this would work for her. She had no time to waste if she needed to find a new one.

Sansa unpacked their clothing, and Stannis ordered them room service, as Sansa went over her notes. He could see her nerves and would offer whatever support she needed.

When it was time, he drove them to the university telling himself he was there to observe only. He had never met this Dr. Tarth, but she had rubbed him the wrong way from the first time she’d contacted him.

Sansa smiled nervously as they approached her office; the university was beautiful. It was all old brick buildings and verdant green lawns as far as the eye could see. The trees around the campus were coloured in red, orange and yellow, and there was a slight breeze on an otherwise beautiful sunny autumn day. The university was a primary undergrad one, with a few top rate masters and Doctoral programs. History was one of those programs. Sansa hadn’t been totally clueless when she’d chosen it

When they came to Dr. Tarth’s office, Sansa squeezed Stannis’s hand and gave him a quick smile. Then she knocked and a clipped voice instructed her to enter.

Stannis and Sansa did and came across the largest woman either one of them had ever seen. Sansa smiled tentatively but received nothing in return. The woman’s face was a mask; and unfortunately, not a very attractive one.

“Ms. Stark,” Dr. Tarth said and held out her hand and shook Sana’s aggressively. Sansa held on for dear life. Then Dr. Tarth frowned. “And…”

“Stannis Baratheon,” Stannis said and shook her hand. He saw the woman’s face sour and her mouth turn down in a grimace. “I’d hate for there to be any question about the authenticity of Ms. Stark’s primary documents,” he said by way of explanation.

“So, I am to assume that she had been granted full access to Storm’s End?” Dr. Tarth said, her frown deepening.

“Yes.”

She grunted and indicated two seats, which Stannis and Sansa willingly took.

Sansa tried to smile but received nothing for her advisor.

“Ms. Stark, I’ve started to read your outline, along with the first few chapters, and I must say, your work is impressive.” 

Sansa smiled and let out a relieved sigh.

“However, I am concerned about the close association with Mr. Baratheon,” Dr. Tarth said and glared at Stannis. “His books, well popular with the general public, are not generally accepted in academia.”

Stannis snorted and Brienne shot him a look.

“Do you have something to say?” She pinned him with a hard look.

Stannis snorted and crossed his legs. Sansa reached out and squeezed his hand and he shuffled in his seat.

“No,” he said, and Brienne turned her attention back to Sansa. He drifted out of the conversation for a moment, only to come back when Brienne began to discuss Renly Baratheon. He snorted again and rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Baratheon, if you have something to say,” she began to say. Stannis gave his fiancé an apologetic look and Sansa sighed. She knew that she’d have to find another thesis advisor after this.

He leaned forward and gave Dr. Tarth a penetrating gaze. “I’m loathed to allow you to be her thesis advisor because there is no world in which I can comprehend how any academic institution allowed your work to stand.”

Dr. Tarth breathed through her nose and opened her mouth to speak. But Stannis wasn’t done. 

“Any first-year student knows that succession is based upon the rule of law. You cannot simply posture that Renly Baratheon was a better choice because he was what… what was it you said in your paper, he was well-loved by the vassal houses in the Storm Lands and_ He had a charism to him that drew men in and made them loyal. This loyalty was which Renly Baratheon built his claim to the throne_. 

“He was, Mr. Baratheon,” Dr. Tarth said, her spine straightening.

“It matters not, Dr. Tarth. The crown belonged to Stannis Baratheon, no matter what his vassal houses thought of him. It was the law,” Stannis retorted. “How any university let your paper stand is beyond me and quite frankly makes me question this entire institution.”

Brienne let out a shocked gasp and rose to her impressive height. “I’m sorry Ms. Stark, I am no longer interested in being your advisor,” she said and stalked over to her door, ripping it open. “Please, leave.”

Sansa straightened and nodded and grabbed Stannis’s hand. Before they could leave, Brienne gave her a cold look. “I had high aspirations for you, Ms. Stark, but it appears you are nothing more than a pretty young woman, playing at being a real historian.”

Sansa reeled back in shock, and Stannis bristled at the insult. Before he could defend her, Sansa’s mouth thinned.

“I brought Mr. Baratheon with me because I had my doubts, Dr. Tarth,” Sansa said. “I was concerned when I heard about your thesis. I was remiss in my research. On you. In my desire to write about Argella Durrandon and spend time at Storm’s End, I hastily I sought you out. I should have been more diligent.”

Dr. Tarth gaped at her and Sansa nodded her head slightly. “Thank you for your time,” Sansa said and then grasped Stannis’s hand and walked away; from her thesis advisor and any chance she had completing her Ph.D. She held it together until they came out into the bright sunshine again and she slipped sunglasses on, but Stannis could feel her shaking.

“Come on, love,” he said, worried that he’d destroyed her career. When they got to the vehicle, he pulled her against him as she started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry Sansa,” he said, hating that he’d opened his mouth but at the same time knowing she’d dodged a huge bullet. That woman was not a good fit for her, and Stannis couldn’t stand back and watch her attach herself to such mediocrity. 

“It’s not your fault,” she mumbled against his neck, where she had buried her face. When she pulled herself together, she wiped her face and got in the vehicle. Stannis drove them back to the hotel and Sansa kicked off her heels and went to the huge bathroom where there was a massive bathtub. She leaned over and ran the water, stripping everything off and settling into the bubbles and hot water. Stannis entered soon afterwards and handed her a glass of wine which she gratefully accepted.

She sighed deeply and drank, and he sent her a wry smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”

She waved a hand. “It really was my own fault.” She frowned. And sighed again. “But I have no idea what to do now, Stannis.”

He leaned over and kissed her softly. “I’ve talked to Cressen,” he said and saw her eyes brighten, “And our little resident meddler still has many, many contacts in the academic world, love.” 

“Really?” She said, brightening. He nodded.

“And, Summerhall isn’t the only University in Westeros, Sansa. Or even the South,” Stannis said, and she nodded. “He even said that he knows a professor in the Vale who would be more than happy to take you on as his student.”

Stannis thought that would have made her ecstatic but instead, he saw a worried frown crease her face.

“Sansa?” He asked and she set the wine down.

“Well, there was a reason I didn’t stay in the Vale,” she said softly, and he frowned. She met his gaze and saw nothing but support and love there.

She huffed out a little breath. “I had an advisor there, and he….” Stannis felt a cold ball of fear settle in his stomach. Stannis kneeled down beside the bath and grasped her hand and she brought her eyes to his.

“What happened?” His voice was short and filled with concern.

“He was a family friend and at first he was very supportive. I learned a lot from him, and he took a keen interest in my studies,” she said. “I was his brightest student and I TA’d a few of his classes. We were a good team.” She paused, lost in ugly memories. Stannis’s eyes never left her face and he held her hand the entire time. “Anyways, as I worked through my master’s he became more inappropriate towards me. And then I found out he’d been trying to publish my work under his name.”

Stannis was stunned. And angry. Angrier than he’d ever been in his life.

“What you mean inappropriate?” He ground out; his jaw almost locked.

Sansa squeezed his hand. “Nothing too serious. He just made these comments that were borderline inappropriate. After the first couple, I told my Dad and he well… He’s never liked Petyr and he showed up and things got kind of messy. There was this big investigation and Dr. Baelish was suspended for a semester.”

“A fucking semester?” Stannis growled and she nodded.

“Anyways, it left a bitter taste in my mouth, so the Vale is out,” Sansa said and sunk lower in the tub.</p><p>Stannis was still seething about this professor and his unprofessionalism towards Sansa. She might have brushed it off, but he hadn’t.

“Sansa,” he said, and she saw the banked anger there.

“Stannis, I promise you, he did nothing. His remarks were unprofessional, but it was worse that he tried publishing my work. Once I told my Dad, he came down right away and I had to practically hold him back from physically hurting him. Trust me, Stannis. He’s so scared of my Dad. And he wasn’t even around for my last few months at the Vale,” she said, and he saw the truth in her eyes.

“I don’t like it,” he muttered, and she nodded.

“Neither did I. And if at all possible, I’d like to avoid being back there, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Especially when they are dumped by their thesis advisor.” She pouted prettily and Stannis grunted at her. “I’m a loser.”

He barked out a quiet laugh. She was adorable.

“You are not a loser. I think you dodged a bullet, as they say,” he told her, and she cocked her head at him. “We’ll find you an advisor, I promise. Now, come, I’ve made reservations for seven.”

She sighed and pulled the plug and let the water drain and went to dress. When she found Stannis in the bedroom, he was already attired in an impeccable suit; one of many he owned. She hummed her approval and went to put on the dress she had brought. It was a designer one; black, sleeveless, with a lace body and a short tulle skirt. She paired it with heeled sandals that showed off her toned arms and long legs. Stannis arched an eyebrow at her. She was gorgeous. He pressed a kiss to her lips and cupped her face.

“I love you,” he said, and she smiled.

“I love you as well,” and then he offered her his arm and escorted her to the Land Rover.

“Where are we going?” She asked, excited again. The situation with Dr. Tarth was disappointing but she knew they would figure out her thesis; if anyone could find her an advisor, Cressen would.

Stannis glanced over at her. “There is this great Italian place here,” he told her, and she grinned.

What followed was an exceptional evening, filled with delicious food, spectacular wine and a truly decadent tiramisu for dessert. Sansa loved lemon, but tonight she made an exception. She snuggled against him as they left the restaurant and thanked him for a lovely evening.

He nodded and kept her close to his side. He still felt the simmer of rage at her previous advisor and knew he would speak with Ned about it when they got to Winterfell.

When they arrived back at the hotel, Stannis made love to her reverently, whispering how much he loved her, and she wrapped herself around him.

The next day they spent it wandering through the sleepy town. They found bookstore after bookstore and spent hours scouring for new sources and books they liked. Stannis plied her with a latte after latte to keep her going, and Sansa grinned at him and rolled her eyes. That night they ordered room service and stayed in, tucked up against one another, lost in their own little world.

On their final day in Summerhall, Stannis brought her to the old ruined keep that had once stood hundreds of years ago, before being destroyed by a fire. It used to be a lightly fortified castle used by House Targaryen as a summer castle and royal residence. Often one of the younger sons from House Targaryen would be known as the Prince of Summerhall; the other having been given Dragonstone.

The fire that happened was blamed on a Targaryen alchemist attempting to contain wildfire and it resulted in the deaths of King Aegon V, and his eldest son and heir Duncan the Small. Something cold shivered down Sansa's spine when she thought about how much the Targaryen's loved fire.

“Rhaegar was also born here,” Stannis said at one point. “It has been said that it is why he and his Maester were convinced he was the Prince that Was Promised, for a time, until Rhaegar became convinced that the prophecy referred to his son, Aegon.”</p><p>

Sansa nodded. Everyone knew that Rhaegar had two sons named Aegon; one born to Elia Martell and of course, the one to his second wife, Lyanna Stark. Jon Snow, or Aegon, had indeed played a huge role in bringing peace to Westeros, although he disappeared from history after he was exiled to the Night’s Watch for saving Westeros from the Mad Queen. Sansa always though his fate particularly cruel and it was rumoured that he left the Wall to become the King beyond the Wall.

“So much tragedy,” she said quietly. She could almost feel the history of the place and could imagine the sadness at losing the King and his heir here.

Later when they came back into the small town, Sansa spotted a small toy story and convinced Stannis to pull over. She grabbed his hand and smiled. She wanted to get Alex something and knew this would be their last chance before they flew to Winterfell tomorrow.

Stannis had never felt more out of place as Sansa convinced him to stop for something for Alex. She immediately wandered off to a small section when she saw a little stuffed wolf. She picked it up and stroked its head, leaving him by himself for a few moments. When she turned, she found Stannis with a toy castle in his hands and a package of knights. She beamed out a smile to him.

“Stannis?”

“I just…” he held they toys up almost helplessly. “Do you think he’ll like them?”

“He’ll love them, darling,” she said and kissed him.

They paid for their purchases and left hand in hand, knowing that on their arrival at Winterfell tomorrow, they would make a little boy very happy.

They stopped along the way at a tiny little Greek restaurant for dinner, and then Sansa made him get her gelato at a tiny ice cream shop on the way back to their hotel. Then they made their way back to their room for their last night at Summerhall.

Cressen phoned later that evening to tell her that Professor Simon Dondarrion at the University in Blackhaven was extremely interested in her research and willing to meet with her to discuss her work. Sansa squealed in delight. It seemed like everything was going to work out, and Blackhaven was a more prestigious university by far than Summerhall.

Then night, cuddled in Stannis’s arms, Sansa finally relaxed and let herself look forward to the upcoming weekend. She knew her Dad was excited that Stannis was coming, and of course, he loved anytime he got to see her. Robb, Jeyne and Alex would be there, along with Jon and his wife Ygritte. Sansa was trying to explain her to Stannis and just gave up and laughed. She couldn’t imagine they’d have a single thing to discuss; Ygritte was wild, and Sansa knew that she and Stannis would be like oil and water. Arya wasn’t making it home this Thanksgiving, having sent a message that she was too far away in Essos and Bran had a huge project that he said he couldn’t miss anytime on. Regardless, it would be wonderful to be back there again, and Sansa was excited that she would be going home with her fiancé! She’d waited her entire life for this moment.

“I love you,” she murmured and heard Stannis say it back to her. He kissed her head and she sunk into sleep; happy everything had worked out.


	17. Thanksgiving

Stannis and Sansa arrived at Winterfell Manor mid-morning, with both Ned and Alex waiting for them this time. When Sansa arched her eyebrow at her nephew being there, Ned shrugged and sighed.

They said they needed time alone. To talk,” he said by way of explanation and Sansa nodded. She hoped for their sake, and Alex's that they worked it out. Soon. She went to scoop Alex up, but then realized he’d already wormed his way into Stannis’s arms and was speaking to him intently about his castle. Alex had Stannis's face gripped between his two little hands, so the focus was only on him. Stannis was enthralled. Sansa grinned wildly at the picture they made and stroked his curls.

“Hey, buddy.” 

“Hi Aunty Sansa,” he singsonged to her and then his attention was immediately back to Stannis as he shimmied down his body and took his larger hand in his smaller one.

“Come on Uncle Stannis, I have things to show you,” he said.

If Sansa had known that Alex was going to drop that little name on her lover, she would have had her camera ready to capture the look on her fiancé’s face. It was priceless.

Ned hugged her and then grabbed her hand to see how the ring looked on her finger, watching happily as Stannis let himself be led away by the little boy, both terrified and enraptured by him. Ned thought it was good practice for his friend, and he could see the longing on his face for a child of his own.

Soon enough, Ned hoped.

Sansa and Ned brought their bags into the house and put them in Sansa’s room, and she pulled out the small presents they had for Alex. She poked her head into the family room and saw the two of them once again engrossed in medieval warfare and settled down beside them.

When Alex saw her, he grinned and then he saw the packages in her hand. She’d had the clerk gift wrap them and so she handed them to him.

Ned had also joined them and couldn’t help the warm feeling that stole over him watching his daughter have such a domestic moment. Sansa was brilliant, he knew that, but he also knew she would be an amazing wife and mother. It was just in Sansa’s nature to care and love people.

Alex thought the wolf was great, but his eyes widened when Stannis gave him the gift he had picked out. Once again, he simply crawled into Stannis’s lap and reverently held his new castle and knights.

“Thank you,” he said and wrapped his small arms around Stannis to hug him. Sansa watched as his eyes filled with love for the child as Stannis gently hugged him back, cradling his smaller body to his larger one. Alex was completely smitten with his Uncle Stannis

She wondered at that moment if she was an idiot to wait until summer to get married. Everything she wanted was right here. The man, a child with him and the life she had always dreamed of. She could work on her thesis even after she was married. Stannis was not the type of man that would prevent her from doing whatever she wanted. Hell, he’d probably destroy anyone that stood in her way. And she longed for this. _A family._

Her Dad came and hugged her and as if he could read her mind, leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You can have everything you want, sweetie,” he told her. “And Christmas is a lovely time of year to get married.” When her eyes met his, he just arched and eyebrow and cupped her cheeks.

“It’s just an idea Sans,” he told her, and then went to join to two of them on the carpet. Sansa shook herself and left the room to start making dinner.

While she puttered and cut and chopped, she thought. She’d known Stannis for six weeks and she already knew she was all in with him. She’s said yes to his proposal, moved into his freaking castle, and she felt the thrum of wanting a family like a physical ache inside her.

She knew she’d get her PhD, but it was no longer the driving force in her life. She briefly wondered what she might do once she had it. Part of her had always thought she’d teach, but she could never see herself leaving Storm’s End. She might be able to swing being an online or remote professor; she giggled at the thought of having the library at Storm’s End as the backdrop for her classroom. But what she thought she really wanted to do was write; with Stannis. She liked that more than just snotty academics read his work. It hadn’t been an insult when Brienne had said that Stannis’s work wasn’t accepted in those elite circles. As far as Sansa could see, that was a good thing. It meant more people might actually learn something about their past. All too often Sansa found people too apathetic to what had happened long ago, and Stannis's book allowed some of them access to that past.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear Stannis until he was behind her and nuzzling at her neck. She titled her head to give him access and grabbed his hand and pinned it to her front.

“I want to get married over Christmas. Between Christmas and New Year’s,” she said suddenly. She turned when she felt him still. Perhaps she had been too forward. One look at his face and she needn’t have worried. His eyes were wide and bright, and hopeful.

“Truly?” He asked and cupped her face. She felt her eyes tear and she nodded.

“Honestly, can either one of us say that we don’t already belong to one another Stannis?”

He shook his head. He’d known, from the first moment Ned had made that phone call to him that something was happening here. Something that neither one of them could stop, and something that at times almost felt bigger than the two of them. It was as if she’d been made for him and he’d been waiting his entire life to find her.

“It’s so big, what I feel for you, what I want. And I want to be your wife. And I want a child, Stannis. I don’t know if our namesakes were happy, or in love, or if it was some political situation. Hell, I don’t know for sure that he even survived. But I just feel so much for you,” she said, and he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “And I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Sansa, I’d marry you tomorrow at the courthouse if that’s what you wanted, love,” he said and then grimaced. “Of course, Cressen and most likely your father would kill us, but if it’s what you wanted, I’d take the hit,” he joked dryly. She laughed softly.

“What about your degree?” He asked. It was really his only concern. At forty-seven he wasn’t getting any younger and the overwhelming need to be a husband and a father just grew stronger by the day.

She waved a hand. “I’m on track and I don’t see why I can’t have something ready for February for submittal. Really what would change if we’re married?”

“Alright,” he said and kissed her gently. “Then let’s get married over Christmas, Sansa.”

Ned was overjoyed at the news, and he whipped out his phone to text Cressen. Sansa rolled her eyes at his antics, and they, meaning mostly Cressen and Ned, with some input from Stannis and Sansa, decided on December 28 as their wedding date. Which meant all the Starks would be at Storm’s End for Christmas. Sansa would also have a few close friends come out for the wedding.

By and large, it would be a small, intimate ceremony and Sansa felt something settle over her at that thought. She knew if her mother were still here, Catelyn would insist on the big wedding; and Sansa would willingly give it to her. But she was gone, and this felt right for them. Stannis didn’t have a lot of friends or family, and the few girls Sansa had been close to in University she had drifted away from. She could only really think of her friends Jeyne and Margaery that she was still even spoke with. She knew, and don’t ask her how, that the most important thing was to be with this incredible man she'd fallen in love with and to become his wife.

Later when Sansa was giving Alex his bath, Stannis settled in with Ned in his study. Once he was comfortable, he asked his friend about this Petyr Baelish and got an earful. Ned Stark hated the man, and while what Sansa had told him her side of the whole story, Ned painted a bit more disturbing of a picture.

“He’s a creep,” he said, and his eyes hardened. “And I’m not sure that he’ll ever be totally over her. I saw how he looked at her Stannis,” Ned said, and Stannis saw his fist clench.

“Storm’s End is remote,” Stannis told him, and Ned nodded. "I'll do whatever is necessary to keep her safe Ned, you have my promise." Stannis could see his friend accept his words and his vow to keep Sansa safe from Petyr Baelish.

“You should come down. In the next few weeks,” Stannis proposed suddenly and saw Ned’s eyes light.

“Yeah?” He asked and Stannis nodded. He’d never wanted anyone in his home before, but this was different. This was the one person Sansa was closest too, and he knew then he’d like his friend to see the Castle.

“Besides, I’m sure you and Cressen have a lot to discuss,” Stannis said sarcastically, and Ned laughed.

“Fuck me if I ever thought I’d see someone love her as you do,” Ned said, laughing and shaking his head. He’d grown used to the idea since they’d been there the first time and had to admit, he couldn’t have picked a more steady or loyal man for his daughter. She’d be the one-child he didn’t have to worry about. He was half afraid that Robb and Jeyne would show up here tomorrow and announce they were getting a divorce.

“What if I bring Alex?” Ned asked and Stannis startled but nodded. Then he grinned. He couldn’t wait to see the little boy’s reaction to a real caste.

Later that night, slightly drunk from the whiskey he’d consumed with Ned, Stannis cuddled Sansa closer to him and mumbled how Ned and Alex were coming to Storm’s End for a visit. Sansa smiled and kissed him and then told him to go to sleep.

Stannis pouted and said he wanted her. She just laughed and then told him if he still wanted her in the morning, she’d be there.

“You’re going to be my wife, Sansa. Mine,” he almost growled and nipped at her, before the long day and the alcohol lulled him into sleep.

She grinned like a fool at him and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “And you’re going to be my husband.” 

The next day, Stannis stood stock still and tried not to let his mouth hang open when he met Sansa’s cousin’s wife.

Jon and Ygritte Snow were both true northerner’s and the woman was an absolute whirlwind with no decorum and no filter. She might have red hair like Sansa, but that’s where all similarities ended. She swore like a truck driver, laughed loudly, stomped through the house with her boots on and slapped him on the back and called him Stanny.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “My name is Stannis,” he ground out and she shot him a wink and a grin and waved a hand. He was sure she didn’t give a single fuck that no one called him Stanny. Just like he was sure she would call him by that hideous nickname for the rest of her life. He shuddered.

Unlike Robb, Jon welcomed him warmly and hugged Sansa and pressed a kiss to her cheek, overjoyed at their engagement and wedding date. 

“We’ll be there, right love?” He said to Ygritte whose head swivelled to look at Stannis, who was standing there in pressed slacks, an oxford button-down and a sinfully expensive sweater. She eyed him critically.

“We'll be where, babe?” she hadn’t really been paying attention, too focused on Alex at that moment. For all her faults, Ygritte loved Alex fiercely; almost as much as she loved Jon.

“Our home, Storm’s End. It’s a castle,” he explained tightly. _Was she dumb?_

“A real fucking castle? Well, shit, of course, we’ll be there,” the wildling woman said Stannis nodded slightly. He was already wondering what he might have to lock up, so she didn’t destroy the place.

Sansa smiled softly at him and came over and clasped his hand. “She’s honestly a really great person. She studies whales in the North Sea. Both her and Jon are biologists and they love the North and the animals. They met on a research trip and she loves him.”

Stannis nodded; that much was clear. They were wrapped around each other much the same way he supposed him, and Sansa was. Sansa got along with Ygritte reasonably well, and they all loved Alex. Robb and Jeyne wouldn’t be by the house until Monday when Sansa, Ned and Jon said they were cooking the huge family lunch. 

The rest of the weekend was spent taking longs walks along with the property and sharing the news they’d learned about the Queen in the North’s children. Jon was stunned; he’d always thought that his namesake had been the father of the Queen’s children, along with Ned. He shook his head at what they had found, and they speculated for hours about what it all might have meant. 

Jon had a keen interest in the history of the North as well and spoke of some of the myths that both he and Ygritte had heard working and living in the far North.

“It was said a Red Priestess arrived at the Wall, with a Queen and a Princess. She sacrificed the daughter for her god, and the mother, in her grief and agony threw herself onto the pyre as well,” Jon told them late one night as they adults were sitting in Ned’s study, sipping scotch.</p><p>

Ygritte nodded. “Aye, the tale of that poor girl has been handed down for generations in my family,” she said, shaking her head. She was a firm atheist and couldn’t imagine the horror of doing something like that to a child because of your religion.

“Where was the King in your tale then?” Stannis said, intrigued. He knew this was not proof, but perhaps this was where the stories about Stannis Baratheon started to diverge. This was the first time an outsider had offered an alternative to the accepted fact that he’d burned his daughter on the march to Winterfell.

“Gathering support for the North, from what legend says; off getting the hill tribes and other northern houses back to the Stark cause,” Jon said, rubbing at his beard. He laid a hand on his wife who was snuggled up against him. Stannis and Sansa were seated similarly on a love seat, and Ned was lounging in his favourite chair.

Ned had to admit; this was as close to truly happy he’d been since his wife died. He’d always had a special bond with Jon, and he was so close with Sansa and both of them were happy and in love.

“There were always rumours that the Battle of the Bastards had more than just the mounted Knights of the Vale,” Ned said conversationally. He met Stannis’s eyes. “Those that believe in such things spoke of a wise wolf that rode in with Northern banners to help the Starks take back their home from the traitor Ramsey Bolton. They say he came from the west with the fury of the North at his back.”

Stannis sighed. He appreciated their thoughts and their stories, but there was still no proof. He tried not to be frustrated and felt his Sansa give him a reassuring pat on the knee.

She smiled at her family. “I’ve totally derailed Stannis’s book. All I asked him to look into where the motivations of the players at the end of the war. Now we’re doing a full-scale historical treasure hunt.” Stannis squeezed her hand. No matter what they did or did not find, this was still the most enjoyment he'd had in a long time when writing. He regretted nothing and told her that, and Sansa smiled at him.

Jon leaned forward; face lit in excitement. There had been things that had bothered him about that time; namely why his namesake would leave his sister who'd just been brutalized alone with Petyr Baelish in their home after just winning it back. 

“But it would make sense. If somehow Stannis Baratheon was there and helped the Starks. It would make sense why Jon Snow left her alone to go and treat with the Dragon Queen. Because he knew there was someone here that would keep her safe. And it would make sense why she would fight so hard for Northern independence. Having a man like that by her side, supporting her rule…” Jon trailed off, shaking his head. The Queen in the North was legendary in the Stark household. “All the great houses were decimated after the war. Imagine having her as a Queen and him as her consort. No wonder the North retained its wealth and independence for so long. They would have been unstoppable." 

Ned let out a soft chuckled. “That’d make you two distant cousins if what we think is true. A thousand times removed, but still…” Ned had a huge grin on his face.

Stannis startled at that thought and Sansa laughed. “I’ll take my chances, Dad. I’m not letting him go.”

Ygritte barked out a laugh. “It’s good to see you happy, Sansa.” Both women smiled warmly at one another. It felt good to be happy.

“Papa?” A sleepy voice said, and everyone turned to see Alex standing at the entrance in his pyjamas and his new wolf stuffy under his arm. He took one look at the room and wiggled himself between Sansa and Stannis and both of them sighed contently as his weight settled between them. Sansa kissed and stroked his hair and Stannis adjusted his arm so the little boy could fall asleep on him.

Jon’s eyes teared and he took Ygritte’s hand and she nodded. “I hope you like being an Uncle, Stannis, because in about seven months there will be another one,” Jon said, a wide grin on his handsome face. Ygritte was glowing with happiness and Sansa squealed in delight. She was overjoyed for them.

Ned’s eyes popped open and he rose and embraced Jon, smacking him on the back before enfolding Ygritte in a warm hug. Sansa and Stannis offered their warm congratulations, and Jon sent Stannis a knowing look. Stannis held the man’s gaze and nodded. He wanted this. All of this. And he’d do everything in his power to make sure that happened.

Eventually, Stannis and Sansa rose and carried Alex back to his bed and tucked him in, and then left his room hand in hand. Cuddled in his arms, Sansa whispered, “I hope they were in love. Like us, Stannis.” She arched her head up to meet his eyes and he nodded. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. “So, do I,” he told her, “So do I.”

_ Thanksgiving Day _

Sansa was up at the crack of dawn on Monday, and Stannis blinked blearily as she had a slightly crazed look in her eye.

“What is it?” He muttered and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Shhh darling, go back to sleep. I need to get cooking,” she told him, and he looked at the clock. It was six a.m. He snagged her arm before she could dart away.

“Sansa, it’s barely dawn,” he mumbled sleepily, and she giggled softly

“Lunch won’t make itself,” she said and then slipped from the room.

Stannis rolled over and wondered if he should get up and help her, but then his face was smashed into the pillow she had just left and he inhaled her scent and let himself drift back to sleep; he'd been having a dream of children playing in the snow in a courtyard he was unfamiliar with.

When he finally woke a couple of hours later, he showered, shaved and dressed casually and made his way to the kitchen; which was a storm with Sansa in the middle of it. She was standing at the island rolling pastry dough, singing along to the little Bluetooth speaker she had on a counter, and wearing one of her mother’s aprons. Stannis stopped and stared at her. Her long hair was in a messy bun, she had on some black leggings and she’d stolen one of his shirts, and she had a smudge of flour on her face. Had he not already been madly in love with her, this would have done it. As it was, he felt a fierce surge of pride that she was going to be his. He could see a daughter perched on a stool beside her, learning how to bake and cook with her mother, and sons running through, busy and excited that their family was all coming for a big meal. A meal that their mother was preparing with her own graceful hands. She was a wonder to him. 

He went up and gathered her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“You’re magnificent,” he murmured and was delighted when her cheeks coloured.

“Stannis,” she whispered. He loved how she said his name.

“Are you actually making a pie from scratch?” He asked, stunned, and she nodded. 

“Yup. It’s why I got up so early. The dough has to sit for a couple of hours and then it’s ready. Apple and lemon,” she said, winking at him.

“Is there anything I can help with?” He asked and she shook her head. Stannis was a very accomplished man, but he was not what you would call kitchen compatible. Instead, he poured himself a coffee and opened his laptop to read his latest emails and compile his thoughts from the conversation the night before. And to keep her company. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

He watched as Ned and Alex came in, and Alex pulled up a stool beside him and dug into his Cheerios. He showed Alex some pictures of historical figures on his laptop, and had the boy thoroughly entranced.

Jon and Ygritte eventually made their way to the kitchen as well, and the other woman happily dove in and helped Sansa peel and cut what seemed like an endless amount of potatoes and carrots. They chatted happily, and it warmed something in Stannis to see Sansa so happy. Jon also pulled up a laptop to show Ned and Stannis his latest research on wolf populations and the impact of the cull the government was talking about initiating. While Stannis had never had a keen fascination for this type of work, Jon's passion and knowledge of the subject soon had him thoroughly engaged in the topic. The men sat around discussing the pros and cons, while Ygritte chipped in her two cents every now and then, and Sansa continued to cook, including Alex when it was time to make the fillings for the pies.

She eventually got Ned and Jon started on the turkey and the ham, and Sansa smirked when everyone rushed to do her bidding. She was truly the queen of the castle at Winterfell Manor. And soon, he hoped, Storm's End.

When Robb and Jeyne showed up around noon, the mood shifted and the tension was thick until everyone realized that they didn’t seem to be at each other’s throats quite so much.

Robb held out his hand and shook Stannis’s and welcomed him to the family and apologized for being an ass. He did the same with Sansa but gave her a huge hug as well. Alex pulled his Dad to see his new toys, and Robb gave Stannis an appreciative nod and Stannis finally felt something settle in him with Ned Stark’s oldest son.

Rickon finally arrived; he’d been away at a football camp and his eyes lit when he saw everything Sansa had prepared. She slapped his hands when he tried to dig into one of her pies before lunch and warned him, she would hurt him if he touched anything. He gave her a sheepish grin.

When Benjen Stark and his companion, an older woman named Kyra showed up, the house felt full and filled with good cheer. Kyra brought homemade buns and Benjen produced another couple bottles of wine, and soon conversation and drinks flowed easily around the large, warm room.

Stannis realized he liked these Northerners. They were direct, honest and held the family in high regard. Sansa had produced an amazing meal, and Stannis was a bit taken back by her ability to feed ten people. He knew she downplayed her talents in the kitchen, but never again would he let her get away with that.

When Ned stood at the head of the table and told them they each had to say what they were thankful for, Stannis simply said Sansa, and everyone awed. She, of course, said him and he squeezed her hand.

He couldn’t ever remember a weekend quite like it, and he imagined many more to come. He told Sansa that night that this type of warm, family dynamic is what he wanted, and she heartily agreed. He undressed her slowly, savouring her. He kissed and licked her, building the need and desire in her until she was moaning and writhing beneath him. When he sunk into her, finally, he leaned down and said how much he wanted to see her large with their child, how he couldn’t wait until he could finish in her and she’d become pregnant. He had no idea what came over him; he knew there were steps to take. Marriage. Doctorate. Figuring out her career. But he didn’t care about any of it when he was in her. He just wanted to see her pregnant with his child. It was a dominant side of him that he rarely let loose and to his surprise and delight, Sansa responded to everything he whispered into her ear. When he finally brought her to her peak, and then emptied himself in her, he looked in her eyes.

“You’re there as well aren’t you baby,” he murmured to her.

“Oh gods, yes, Stannis. I’m so there,” she said and kissed him, hard and deep. “Let’s go home and plan our wedding, love. Because I can’t wait to be your wife.”

He felt his whole body react to that word. Sansa Stark was going to be his wife. And he would never let her go, not know that he had found her, and he had her to himself. She was his, and he couldn’t wait for that day to come when he would slide a wedding ring on her finger and she would finally, in every sense of the word, be his.


	18. Discoveries

Cressen was overjoyed. They had moved up their wedding date and spent a week after Sansa and Stannis returned home badgering her with wedding details. Finally, over breakfast one morning, she held up her hand and gave him an exasperated look.

“My father and Alex will be here in two weeks, Cressen, and I promise you I will devote time to go over the wedding then. Right now, I need to focus on my thesis,” she told him. He nodded and acquiesced to her demands, but she saw him pecking away, furiously at his iPhone and sent her future husband a look. Stannis shrugged his shoulders philosophically. All he cared about was marrying her.

She’d had a couple of very productive phone meetings with her new advisor, and he was night and day from Dr. Tarth. He was very knowledgeable in the history of The Stormlands and was delighted that someone was finally writing a memoir about the last Storm Queen. 

In the two weeks, since they had come back from Winterfell, Stannis had devoted hours to going through the records and was down to his last few boxes from Winterfell. Ned and Alex would be here tomorrow, and he wanted to be able to give Ned back the boxes of records to take home. Stannis could admit that it had been a slog, to go through so many historical documents.

Nothing much else had come out of what he had searched, except some descriptions of the children, which could have meant anything given that Stannis Baratheon and Jon Snow shared similar features. Two dark-haired twin boys were not proof that Stannis was their father. He was frustrated, he could admit, and he wondered if it was time to broaden their search. He was grateful that Sansa’s topic was moving along nicely; she even claimed she might have a first draft ready to go by Christmas but hated that his work had stalled. He flipped open the third last box and felt this heart stammer. Inside were four slim black books, similar to the diary from Kings Landing, staring him in the face.

“Sansa,” he breathed. He knew she had to see this. There must have been something in his tone because she came over immediately, and her hands stilled and his shoulder.

“Is that what I think it is?” She said, swallowing hard

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t even reached for them; he didn’t want to be disappointed. She rubbed his shoulder.

“Well, you have to see,” she said and sent him an encouraging grin. He rubbed his hands on his pants and realized he was nervous. He wanted these diaries to be hers. Because he wanted to know, one way or another, what had happened at that critical battle, did his namesake ride in from the west, with bannermen loyal to the Starks and helped them? Or was he the bastard history claimed, a man who burned his child on a stake to appease a god?

He reached down and opened the first book and sucked in a breath when he saw the familiar handwriting. It was hers; he’d know it anywhere. He’d read her diary at least ten times already, and he’d know her script anywhere. He checked to see if there was a date and seeing nothing, he opened the next three and saw they all belonged to her. 

He randomly flipped open a page and read from the first book.

“Jesus,” Stannis whispered after a few minutes and handed it off to Sansa to read, sitting there stunned.

He had always wanted to believe that his namesake hadn’t been the bastard history said he was, but now he was holding proof. It didn’t matter if no one else in the entire world believed him; now, he knew.

Stannis Baratheon had pledged himself to the North, and like the King, he proclaimed he was, he’d fought for his people. And in making that choice, he’d won the loyalty of the Starks. He’d been wounded at the Battle of the Bastards and had come to be in the Stark’s care and protection.

“Stannis,” Sansa said, and came and sat in his lap. He banded his arms around her, holding her. 

“He wasn’t what they said he was Sansa,” he said, and she could see the wonder in his eyes. She had known all along the this was essential to him, but perhaps even she had underestimated how much this meant to him.

They had both read about how Stannis Baratheon had indeed shown up with an army, and he’d been severely injured during the Battle of the Bastards. Desperate to protect the King, Ser Davos and Jon Snow had hidden him in Winterfell, trusting his care to loyal servants and Lady Sansa. They had taken the King’s armour and fitted it on a dead body, proclaiming to all that the King was dead. It was safer that way. If he were dead, no one would question who the injured man was, and no one would come looking for him. When Ser Davos and Jon Snow left for Dragonstone, they did so knowing Lady Sansa would protect him and that should he awake, that he would stand by her side. Her diary contained passages of how much she thought about him, visited him, sat with him. She spoke of her time in Kings Landing when she’d waited for him to emerge victoriously and he hadn’t, and now how he’d helped her again. It was clear that she spent a great deal of time in his company and was overseeing in his care. To Lady Sansa, Sansa Baratheon was a good man, a man she could trust.

They read how she was suspicious of Petyr Baelish but kept him close enough to know what he was planning. According to her diary, she spent long hours discussing the Vale lord with Stannis, even though he could not reply.

“She’s already fascinated with him,” Sansa said and sent him a small, knowing smile. “I can understand why.” She kissed him softly, lovingly.

He grunted at that. There were still so many questions. Did he ever wake up? If he did, why did he never claim the throne after this battle? Where was he during the battle of the Long Night?

There were still those who wondered at what really happened during that battle. The stories were mere legend now; an army of the dead and a Queen that had dragons.

Most historians now put the army of the dead to an invading force that crossed into Westeros from the far north when a particularly brutal winter allowed an ice land bridge to form. That army was said to be relentless and huge; cannibals who ate their dead and wore the bones and skulls of their fallen as symbols of their bloodthirsty nature. They knew now that the Dragon Queen, like her ancestors before her, was obsessed with wildfire; and that she had pyromancers from Essos that knew how to control it and was willing to deploy it in a battle no matter the cost to her armies.

Stannis shook himself out of his musings and gently placed the four new diaries on the table. When he asked if she wanted to read them first, she cocked her head. “No, they’re yours, Stannis. Find out what happened to them.”

He nodded at her and settled himself on the sofa to read. He flipped through the diaries and quickly ascertained their order. He was a logical and pragmatic man and reading the story from the time that Sansa Stark arrived at Castle Black made more sense to him. He had just enough time to get through the first diary before dinner and what he read both stunned him and broke his heart. He was sitting stone still when Sansa finally finished her work and came to sit beside him. She frowned at the look on his face. She reached out and grabbed his hand, stroking her fingers over it.

“I can’t…” he swallowed hard and looked at her. “What he did to her,” he said and shook his head.

“Who?”

“Ramsey Bolton,” he hissed the name and swallowed hard again. “Sansa, love, I can’t even…” he shuddered at what the man had put her through.

She cupped his cheek and kissed him. “Tell me, Stannis.” He saw the need for the truth in her eyes and clutched the book.

“He was unbearably cruel to her. He raped her, cut her, branded her. He tortured her, Sansa,” he said, his voice guttural and low. “When she finally got the chance, she escaped. She had one chance, and she made a run from him in the cold and snow. With his dogs and his men at her back, until she was rescued, half-frozen and almost dead, by two knights and brought to Castle Black. This entire book is a recounting of her marriage to him, and it is as bad as history has said.”

Sansa feels the nausea roll in her belly that the Queen in the North had endured such cruelty.

“How did she come to marry him?” She felt Stannis stiffen, and then he looked at her.

“She was betrayed by Petyr Baelish."

Sansa nodded, somehow having always known that someone close to her would have had to have been the one to arrange such a marriage.

“She was the key to the North; a pawn. First in Kings Landing, then in the Vale. No wonder she fought for the North’s independence when she was given a chance.”

Stannis shook his head at how much the Queen had accomplished. Stannis drew her closer to him, pulling her tight. He couldn’t imagine such unimaginable cruelty to be visited on someone, let alone a man’s wife. It was indeed a sick and twisted individual that would engage in such torture.

“I’m glad he came,” Sansa said in Stannis’s chest where she had burrowed close. “I’m glad Stannis Baratheon helped them take back Winterfell from the Bolton’s.”

He grunted his agreement and simply held her. He placed the book to the side and asked if she wanted to read it. She shook her head. “It’s enough that you know, Stannis. I trust you.” 

He cupped her face and kissed her lips. “I need you,” he said, and she nodded. They were both reeling from such horrors, and they walked hand in hand back to their bedroom, leaving the four little diaries and their cruelty behind. 

Once there, Sansa lit some candles, and Stannis texted Cressen and Davos to say they were in for the night and they would take care of themselves. Tomorrow Ned and Alex were arriving, but tonight was for them. Stannis took his time with her, making her peak on his fingers and his tongue until she was sobbing his name. She was almost incoherent when he finally sunk into her, and she wrapped her legs around him. He rocked gently in her, until he felt her rally and she started to move, and he finally allowed them both to find their release. Afterwards, he drew a bath for them and carried her there, loving how she wrapped her arms around him. He held her here as well, needing her goodness to wipe away the evil from the past. When they finally dressed in comfortable clothes, Sansa put together dinner for them and turned on some music. Stannis sat and watched, drawing her as she moved about the small kitchen until she finally grinned and told him dinner was ready. After they had eaten, he once again brought her back to bed, only this time he wrapped her in his arms and stroked her back.

“I can stop,” he said at one point, and her eyes darted up to his.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, voice passionate and demanding. “We’re so close, and we knew her second husband was a bastard in more ways than one.”

He nodded. But it had twisted something in him, imagining something similar happening to her. He knew it was unreasonable, but this connection he felt with their namesakes was unmistakable and hard to ignore.

“She survived it, Stannis. Just like he survived his child being murdered, and his crown stolen from him, and countless battles. They were survivors and maybe, just maybe, they found something good in the end. You can’t stop now,” she told him, and he nodded his agreement.

He’d always been a man with a single-minded focus; a drive that few others possessed. But tonight, he was glad for the distraction of Ned and Alex arriving tomorrow. He needed a bit of space before he picked up the next diary, and he could only pray that things had gotten better for the Queen in the North.

Stannis had sent his jet for Ned and Alex, so when Sansa and Stannis greeted them at the small airport outside of Storm’s End, the boy was a veritable font of information and excitement. He threw himself into Stannis’s arms and simply wouldn’t let go until they made it to the Land Rover. When Sansa climbed in the back with him, he happily transferred his attention to her, and she laughed and smiled with him the whole way back to Storm’s End.

Stannis could admit that there was a part of him, a large part of him, that wanted to impress Ned Stark. He’d been a family friend for years, but Robert had never had an interest in the Castle, and Ned had never been here. Now, Stannis was bringing his future father-in-law to his home, and he wanted Ned to see that he was more than capable of providing for the man’s daughter.

Ned caught his first glance of the Tower from a distance and whistled softly. He’d seen pictures of course; you’d have to live under a rock to not know what Storm’s End looked like. But seeing pictures and seeing it up close were two entirely different things. As they got closer, Ned risked a glance at Stannis and could see the pride stamped on the man’s face.

_And why not? _Ned thought. He owned the single most impressive residence in all of Westeros. And this was now his daughter’s home.

Both Ned and Alex let their mouths drop open when they pulled through the gates of Storm’s End.

“Fuck,” Ned swore, shaking his head. Stannis grinned. “Robert, well, he always said it was impressive but old and drafty.”

“My brother had no appreciation for anything that wasn’t modern, sleek and fast,” Stannis said, a downturn to his mouth. He could have easily added that went for his women as well.

When they exited the car, Ned slapped Stannis on the back. “This is impressive,” he told his friend and saw Stannis relax. Sansa held Alex’s hand and was going over the rules, which he was resisting, until Stannis kneeled, eye level with him.

“Aunt Sansa is correct,” he told the little boy. “The Castle can be a dangerous place. That is why you’ll be staying with us, in the Round Tower, way at the top,” he said and pointed to the very peak of the Tower. Alex’s eyes widened, and he promised to behave and grasped Stannis’s hand.

When they turned to enter, Cressen, Davos and Mayra were standing there, the first two having massive grins on their faces.

“And who might this be?” Davos asked, looking at Alex, who shyly burrowed into Stannis’s leg. He picked the child up and set him in his arms and introduced them all.

Cressen couldn’t stop humming. This was even better than expected. He let Stannis and Sansa take Alex to their chambers, while he showed Ned his rooms. The man was suitably impressed, and the two co-conspirators chatted eagerly on their walk through the castle.

Stannis felt something tighten in his chest as he brought the child to their Tower. This was their space, and someday soon, he hoped his children would fill these rooms. He saw Sansa’s smile and Alex’s happy cry when he saw the toys, they had bought for him.

Even better, Sansa saw his eyes light when she asked if he wanted to go for a horseback ride with them. They had both put their work away for the next few days to focus on family. Ned wasn’t a great horseman; not like Sansa or Stannis, but he said he could hold his own. They weren’t planning on going far, not with Alex riding with Stannis, but they could see the child’s excitement, and he gently stroked Fury’s velvet nose. He chortled in glee when the horse stomped his feet and neighed, and Sansa was glad to see he had no fear of the big animal. Their afternoon ride was pleasant, although short by their standards, and when they returned to the Castle, Mayra scooped up Alex and asked if he wanted to make cookies. He latched onto her like a leech.

Sansa dragged Stannis into the kitchen and made him sit. They were finally going to nail down the details of the wedding; it was less than two months away, and her Dad and Cressen were getting increasingly vocal about decisions being made.

By the time dinner was served, they had it all arranged except for the dress. Storm’s End had a small, ancient sept that Cressen said they had to be married in and both agreed. Sansa would have to take a weekend and find a wedding dress. She’d texted Margaery and Jeyne, and both decided to meet her in Kings Landing for a girl's weekend of wedding dress shopping. Sansa tried to get in touch with her sister, but Arya’s text simply said she’d be home in time for Christmas. That was all. Sansa sighed and then put it from her mind. There was nothing she could do about that.

The following few days were filled with more warmth and love than Stannis could ever remember at Storm’s End; at least since he’d been small, and his parents had been alive. He could admit the best part was hearing a child’s laughter and having Alex in their space didn’t bother him. That night when they tucked him into bed, he told them both how much he loved them, and Sansa saw the tears in Stannis’s eyes.

The next morning over breakfast, Ned told them that Jeyne and Robb were going to counselling. Both had admitted that they would never have married the other if she hadn’t been pregnant. But married they had, and their councillor was trying to make them see their obligation to their son. Living in a war zone would damage him more than them divorcing, he had told them both bluntly. If they couldn’t be civil, it would be better for them to go their separate ways. That sobered both of them, and neither wanted that either. So, they were taking time to do what they hadn’t when they’d first met; date and get to know one another away from the pressures of raising a child. That was why Ned had Alex so much these days.

When Ned and Alex finally left a week later, Sansa cried a little, and Stannis too felt a loss watching his friend and his nephew leave.

That afternoon, he spent a few more hours reading through the Queen’s diaries. They were fascinating. After the horror of being married to Ramsey Bolton, and the uncertainty of winning back their home, Lady Stark had settled into her role as Wardeness of the North with the grace and ability of her station and her name. He read how both Bran and Arya Stark made it home to Winterfell, and how the Stark’s took care of Petyr Baelish. With him dispatched, Lord Royce from the Vale became Sansa’s most trusted advisor. It was Lord Royce who suggested that they give Stannis a Vale identity. He too knew the man was the true King and pledged himself to his cause.

He grimaced reading about when Stannis finally woke, and how he had lost his sight. He couldn’t imagine a greater horror, but that too eventually passed. The man was weak and disorientated, and the Queen wrote how he was devastated to learn about his daughter’s death. She wrote how he blamed himself for not keeping her safe. When her brother and Ser Davos finally arrived back home, with two foreign armies and the Dragon Queen, Lady Sansa relied heavily on the advice of Lord Royce and Stannis Baratheon. The King had only just regained his eye sight and was still weak and attended no war councils. She knew that Tyrion Lannister along with Lord Varys, would know who he was, and that would get them nowhere. Lady Sansa did not trust the Dragon Queen and knew her to be single-mindedly focused on the Iron Throne. If she knew the true king of Westeros was in Winterfell, she’d have him killed immediately.

By the time the battle of the Long Night came, Stannis had pledged himself to Lady Sansa and didn’t leave her side. He might not be fit enough to fight on the field, but he could stop anyone from hurting her, she wrote. Everyone knew that conquering armies raped and pillaged if they won, and Stannis vowed that no one would take her. All of this was all contained in the second diary.

Stannis sat and thought about all he had learned. He couldn’t imagine the horror of realizing his child was dead, losing his eyesight, having his army disband and now a young, mad Queen intent on taking the throne. The Throne that was rightfully his by all the laws of Westeros. And yet, he sensed a comradery between Lady Sansa, Lord Royce and Stannis Baratheon. And he was proud of his namesake, even weakened and in no form to fight, that he had vowed to protect Lady Sansa during the war. Perhaps she had shared with him her desire for him to win in Kings Landing all those years ago.

When they’d won the war, the Mad Queen turned her attention south. Still weak, Stannis was no position to challenge her at this time, and he knew this. Shortly before Jon and Davos marched south with a ragged and tired Northern Army, they held a small council. Lady Sansa, Jon, Davos, Stannis, Arya and Lord Royce all agreed that they would let the two armies destroy each other and then when the dust settled, the true King could emerge

What no one had counted on was the Queen burning the city to the ground, killing hundreds of thousands of innocent souls. The southern lords turned on Jon Snow, even though Sansa and Arya argued that he was a hero, killing a murderer. When Sansa marched south with her last remaining men, Stannis Baratheon was by her side; only now he wore plain armour and a dark grey cloak. He flew no sigil. The world had gone mad, and he was only here to support her, she wrote. He told her he had lost his wife, his daughter, his army and his crown and wanted nothing to do with the south any longer. He found he liked the North; the people, the way of life. The Queen had written that she hoped he would remain by her side, though she never spoke of the growing affection they had for one another. When Sansa won the North’s independence, she came home with a loyal man at her side. And one who pledged to stay. There was nothing left, Stannis told her, for him in the south. And this was the story of the third slim volume.

The fourth and final diary was different. War no longer ravaged Westeros, and Stannis could immediately tell by the Queen’s tone. She wrote of her coronation; her dress that held special meaning for those in her life that had helped her. The Northern Houses all supported her reign and the man at her side for the first few years of her rule, was her most trusted advisor, Stannis Baratheon.

Their romance happened gradually, over the next few years as they both healed from their trauma. It was three years after the end of the war when the Queen finally announced her pregnancy, and in her diary, she wrote of her great joy at this event. The North rejoiced as well, and when twin boys were born to the Queen, she named them for her dead brother and father and proclaimed them Starks. No one questioned this, and Stannis read how they were happy. And how much they loved one another. There was a passage when the Queen spoke of how they called their second son Eddard, but in truth, they knew him as Steffon. They had agreed with Ser Davos and Gendry that Stannis’s second son would inherit Storm’s End when he came of age, and she wrote that it was of great relief to the bastard blacksmith. According to her, he’d never wanted the title, nor the responsibility that came with it. She wrote of spring, and then summer that came to the North. Of the prosperity and peace that her lands and people had. And she wrote of her sincere devotion, affection and love for her consort. They never married; she needed to remain a Stark and Stannis had no desire to take anything from her. But they were happy

When Stannis closed the volume, the twin boys were aged ten and learning each day how to become a King and a Lord of two impressive Kingdoms. Their daughters were 8 and 6, and the Queen thought she might be pregnant again.

Stannis hoped he might find another diary, but even if he didn’t, this was enough. He wasn’t even sure what he would publish; he wasn’t sure if their story should be shared or kept private. Over the rest of the week, Sansa read them as well, and he watched as the emotions ran over her expressive face. When she shut the final book, she gave him a watery smile.

“After so much pain, they were happy.” He nodded. Perhaps that was all the closure he needed; knowing that Stannis had lived and had found peace, love and a family.

He asked her opinion on what he should include in his book, and she gave him a bewildered look.

“I just don’t know,” she said. Then she bit her lip.

“Out with it.” He could see something was on her mind.

She gave him a slight smile. “Well, it’s almost as if you could write a book on her. On Lady Sansa Stark, who became the Queen in the North. I mean, that is a fascinating story. Much more than the end of the civil war.”

He nodded and thought about it. He couldn’t in good conscience publish what he’d previously written because now he knew so many of the motivations of the woman who would be Queen in the North and it changed everything. And he didn’t want to slip her perspective in as a mere sidebar or footnote.

His fiancé was right; she deserved her book. His agent, publisher and editor, would all kill him, but he knew it was the correct thing to do. He’d write a book about her and the impact she had on Westeros and the North

Of course, it would be a bombshell; alleging that Stannis Baratheon lived, that he stayed in the North and that his son one was the true heir to the Stormlands, while his other became the King in the North. But it was also the correct book to write given what they had discovered.

“Will, you co-author?” He asked Sansa and watched as her jaw dropped in shocked surprise.

“You can’t be…. Are you serious?” She asked, her voice squeaking at the end.

He grinned and stalked over to her, like a cat on the prowl. He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her chair, effectively pinning her in. He nipped at her and tilted her head back, locking her eyes to his.

“It’s all because of you, Sansa,” he murmured and nuzzled at her neck, licking and sucking on her as she moaned.

“Yes,” she whimpered, and he grinned.

“Come on,” he said and pulled her to her feet. “I have a taste for you and the last thing I need is one of the nosy bastards walking in on us when I have you here in front of the fireplace.” He heard her let out a breathless sigh and knew he was in for an enjoyable afternoon.

It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing what he did now. He felt settled and at peace, and he was happier than ever that they had undertaken this project. And now his brilliant and intelligent, soon to be wife, was going to help him write his latest book. At that moment, Stannis Baratheon had everything he wanted in this life, and he’d never been happier. In a few short weeks, he’d marry this woman, and then she’d be his, and he’d be hers, and damn anyone in Westeros that tried to break them apart.


	19. Wedding at Storm’s End

Stannis insisted on accompanying Sansa to Kings Landing when she went to meet with her friends to shop for her wedding dress, and she didn’t mind in the least. They flew in on a Thursday, and Sansa was meeting her friends on Friday morning.

He had business there and another meeting with Cersei and Joffrey Lannister. His lawyers, his very expensive, very cutthroat lawyers had argued well in court and no judge this side of Westeros would give Joffrey a dime. His investigator had turned up a disturbing bit of news that indicated that the boy was perhaps a child of incest and Stannis was disgusted at the whole family. He knew it was his trump card and he was more than willing to play it if they didn’t slink back to Casterly Rock and leave him and Sansa alone. It was unfortunate because both Myrcella and Tommen were nothing like Joffrey, but Cersei had forced his hand. He was grateful that nothing had come from the brief romance between Margaery and Joffrey that had seemed to fizzle after a single date. He’d hate to be the one to tell Sansa that her friend wasn’t welcome at Storm’s End.

Stannis had agreed to let Sansa’s two friends stay in the penthouse and saw the eager excitement on her face when the intercom buzzed, and the doorman let her know that they were here. Sansa squealed happily and practically had the door open before the women could even knock. There were more squeals of delight and hugs and the two ladies ohhh’d and ahhh’d over Sansa’s ring. When they were finally all in the penthouse, Marg whistled and told Sansa she’d traded up.

Stannis frowned; he knew the Tyrell’s, and, in his opinion, they were one step up from the Lannister’s as far as trashy Westeros families went. Still, these were Sansa’s friends, and he would try for her sake. He was standing in the kitchen when they entered, and he nodded at them and then was pleasantly surprised when Sansa came up and kissed him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Guys, this is Stannis. Stannis, Margaery and Jeyne,” she said, beaming. When Sansa had initially said her best friend’s name was Jeyne he had thought it was Robb's wife, but she laughed and waved a hand. "Nope, Jeyne Poole. We've been friends since childhood."

Stannis could see the judgement in Margaery’s eyes, and he narrowed his gaze. When his eyes swung to Jeyne, she smiled openly and held out her hand. He immediately liked her.

“So, how did you two meet? Sansa has been super tight-lipped about everything,” Marg said, taking a stool at the island.

“I came to Storm’s End to do some research for my postdoc, and well, I guess you could say it was love at first sight,” Sansa said, still smiley widely.

Marg snorted and looked around. “Love. Sure Sans,” and she winked at her friend.

Sansa frowned.

It was precisely what it had been. Why was Marg acting this way? She seemed like she was jealous, and Sansa had no idea why. She couldn’t imagine that Marg and Stannis would ever even have a civil conversation, except for her sake, but she didn’t think there would be this much hatred.

“Chill Marg,” Jeyne said and gave Sansa an encouraging smile. She could see how happy her friend was, and they had been friends since childhood. She’d been texting Sansa for months about Stannis and knew how smitten her friend was. Unfortunately for all involved, Marg had just been very publicly dumped by Joffrey Lannister and was feeling hurt and humiliated.

Stannis tightened his grip on Sansa, and she narrowed her eyes when she saw Marg’s jaw tighten. 

“What?” Sansa demanded.

Stannis had rarely seen his fiancé upset, but he was pretty sure the scene that was going to unfold was going to be epic.

“Nothing,” Marg said and waved a hand. 

“No, Marg. It isn’,t anything. You look pissed. At me. Or Stannis,” Sansa said, jaw tight and mouth clenched. She didn’t have time for Marg’s shit. She was either here for her, or she wasn’t.

Margaery sighed and then ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just a bit much San. The whole, we fell in love at first sight bit. I mean, I get it. He’s sort of hot for an old guy, totally loaded and clearly, he’s crazy about you. But, like, just say you fell for him cause he’s rich. Don’t make it seem like some fucking fairy-tale.”

Stannis clenched his fist and watched as Sansa paled and then two bright spots of colour bloomed on her face. She dropped his hand and leaned on the island. 

“I thought you were different than all the gossips out there Marg, I did. I’ll say this once. I’m in love with Stannis. I don’t give a fuck how much money he does or doesn’t have. It’s him I love, and he loves me. Now get the fuck out of our penthouse,” Sansa all but snarled at her.

Marg blushed furiously and stomped to her feet. “Everyone knows what this is. You aren’t fooling anyone.” She slammed the door and was gone. 

Sansa tried not to cry, but she couldn’t help it and felt Stannis wrap his arms around her.

“Shhhh love,” he murmured to her, and she shook in his embrace. 

Jeyne watched enthralled. She could see how in love these two were, and she knew that Marg was just jealous, and a bit put out since she’d confessed that her brother, Willas had been devastated when he’d learned of Sansa’s engagement. Sansa had a tough time these past few years, and Jeyne was happy she’d found someone like Stannis. He seemed like a totally solid guy if a bit older.

Eventually, Sansa pulled herself together and kissed Stannis before turning a watery smile to Jeyne. “Still up for shopping?” She asked, and Jeyne nodded.

“Of course. San, you’re my oldest and best friend. I’m here, no matter what. It’s not you; it’s shit with Marg. She’s pissed Joffrey dumped her, and her brother Willas laid a huge guilt trip on her about you,” Jeyne said.</p><p>Sansa frowned. “Willas? Why?”

Jeyne laughed. “Ummmm because he was totally in love with you. I mean, you had to know, that right?”

Sansa blushed and shook her head. “It was a summer thing, and it was a couple of years ago. I mean surely he doesn’t still…” Sansa waved a hand around.

“Oh jeez, San. You have no idea. Fuck Harry the dickhead still talks about you, even though everyone knows that he’s a total douche bag. And Willas, well, man, the guy was gone for you. Head over heels and you just never looked twice at him after that summer,” Jeyne said.

Sansa blushed deeper. “It wasn’t like that, Jeyne,” she started to protest, and Jeyne held up a hand.

“Hell, I know that. I was there. It was casual.” She shrugged. “But we can’t help who we love. Don’t worry about Marg. She’s been in uber bitch mode for weeks now. You’re just an easy target.”

Sansa worried her lip and Stannis squeezed her hand. The day had not started as planned. Then she sighed and looked at the man she was in love with. She’d never had any such feelings for either Harry or Willas, and that was just a fact. She couldn’t help who she loved, and Stannis was a good man; the best man for her.

Eventually, she and Jeyne got going; Stannis had arranged for a car service to take them to an exclusive bridal shop that would cater to her every need. While it would have been nice to have Marg along, given her current attitude, it most likely would have been a disaster. When they entered the shop, Sansa’s mouth dropped open when she saw Robb’s wife Jeyne was there, along with Mayra and Ygritte. She felt the tears come to her eyes and silently thanked Stannis for his thoughtfulness. What had almost been a disaster turned out to be one of the best afternoons of her life. Of course, the dresses were amazing, and everything looked stunning on Sansa. But she still hadn’t found the one. She knew she wanted it to be more traditional, but the moment she stepped into a dress by Zahavit Tshuba, she knew it was the one. The top part of the dress had intricate lace panels, leading to an elegant bow at the back. The middle part of the dress was sleet satin that hugged her slim frame before it flared out at the bottom in an elegant waterfall of white fabric. She had tears in her eyes when she showed the ladies, and they all knew this was her dress.

They spent the rest of the afternoon finding shoes and lingerie, followed by a delicious dinner at a very upscale restaurant; all arranged by Stannis of course. When Jeyne and Sansa finally made it back to the penthouse, they were exhausted but happy. In a month, Sansa was getting married, and now that she had her dress, she couldn’t wait.

When she entered their bedroom, she saw Stannis propped up against the headboard, chest bare and computer perched on his lap. She saw that he immediately spotted her, and she grinned widely and held up a hand to him when she saw he put his laptop away.

“Give me two minutes,” she said, and he smirked, knowing her nighttime ritual was more like ten. When she came back in, his jaw dropped. Sansa had bought more than just wedding lingerie at the store today, and Stannis was more than appreciative.

“You’re the best,” she said, crawling up the bed to sit on his lap, kissing him and running her hands over his body. “Thank you for an incredible day.”

“Sansa,” he murmured her name and carded his fingers through her hair, kissing her deeply.

She let her hands and lips explore him, nipping and stroking, until she was ready and sunk onto him, setting the pace and bringing them both mind-bending orgasms. When she finally was settled in his arms, he asked if she’d found a dress and she sleepily told him she had and that she couldn’t wait to marry him. Stannis smiled softly and kissed her; happy things had worked out.

The next morning, he shared with Sansa his meeting with Joffrey and Cersei. Given the incriminating evidence he’d compiled on them, it looked like their frivolous lawsuit would be dropped and hopefully, that was the end of them.

Marg phoned mid-morning, and Sansa took her call but wouldn’t budge. She was forgiven, but not invited to the wedding. Sansa hadn’t forgotten what she had said, and she had hurt her. Sansa was beyond this petty bullshit and told her friend, who was crying. Stannis stood beside Sansa as she took the call, and she appreciated his support. In the end, though, it was decided it was best for all if she didn’t come.

When they left Kings Landing this time, it was knowing that they had accomplished what they needed too and that they were heading home, wedding dress securely in hand, and their future waiting for them.

_ Christmas and Wedding Day _

Sansa’s family arrived a few days ahead of Christmas for their family celebration. Alex was thrilled to see his favourite people again, and Robb and Jeyne seemed to be doing much better. Ygritte had the cutest baby bump, and Jon was in awe of the Castle. He had never seen such a building. Rickon was a teenager, so not much phased him, and Bran could barely form three sentences he was so engrossed in whatever he was working on. Arya arrived solo, having left her boyfriend somewhere in Essos and she whistled at the size of the Castle, but wisely kept her mouth shut about Stannis. She could see her sister was over the moon for the guy, and if anyone deserved a good guy, it was Sansa. Besides, their father had laid the law down with all of them.

Christmas was fun, Stannis discovered, because of a child. The magic of season was in full effect for Alex, and when it started to snow on the 24th, he clapped his hands in joy. Mayra and Sansa put together one mouth-watering meal after another, and the mood was festive and happy. Christmas morning was chaos, and Stannis had no idea how a single five-year-old could dominate such an event. Stannis and Sansa had exchanged their gifts privately; both were having found rare manuscripts for one another. They grinned when they had opened them.

At one point in front of the family, Stannis sat back and watched as Jon and Robb in amusement. They had been doing this for years, trying to one-up each other on the worst gift given each year. He shook his head at their antics and wondered if perhaps they would one day have boys that would be that close.

Ned had pulled Sansa to the side at one point, along with her sister and handed them both jewelry boxes. Sansa felt her eyes tear and knew that her Dad was finally ready to part with some of her mother’s pieces. When she opened hers, she saw her mother’s vintage Cartier watch, along with her most favourite piece; a double strand of pearls.

“Your mother wore those on her wedding day, and I thought that perhaps,” Ned couldn’t even finish before Sansa launched herself into his arms, crying.

“Of course, I’ll wear them, Dad,” she said, thanking him.

Stannis had witnessed the whole scene and held his soon to be wife who seemed extra weepy these days. He wondered what she would do when he draped her in the Baratheon jewels. His family had several stunning pieces in his safe, but he knew the pearls would be the right piece for their wedding.

Over the next few days, some more friends and relatives arrived at Storm’s End for the wedding, so that by the time their wedding day was upon them, approximately fifty people sat in the ancient sept to watch them get married. Stannis stood at the front, Davos by his side, in a traditional tuxedo. He tried not to worry that his bride wouldn’t show, but he assumed every man felt this way. Davos put his hand on his back in support.

“She’ll be here, lad. That girl loves you more than anyone in the world,” he said, and Stannis nodded. He heard the slight commotion and then saw her friend walk down the small aisle before his entire vision was taken up with Sansa. She was stunning. He was sure he’d never seen anyone more beautiful than her, and she stole his breath away. And then she smiled at him, and he was gobsmacked. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve her, but he would never let her go. When she finally got to the front of the sept, Ned patted him on the back and shook his hand. Sansa beamed at her father and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Love you, Dad,” she said, and he hugged her, before he handed her off to Stannis.

He stood still for a moment, just taking her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her, and she blushed.

“And you’re so handsome,” she replied. He wanted to scoff, but he could see the truth in her eyes. Arm in arm they turned to face Cressen, who had got himself ordained to marry them. Neither could have picked a better person to marry them; he loved them both so much. They exchanged their vows and their rings, and then, with his newly obtained power, Cressen pronounced them man and wife. Stannis wasted no time in kissing her, and the small crowd cheered.

“Wife,” he growled into her ear, and Sansa felt the heat rise in her body.

“Husband,” she said back and nipped at him. “Mine,” she added, and he nodded.

“Yours. Now and forever, Sansa,” he told her and her eyes teared.

Their photographer used the stunning backdrop of Storm’s End for some genuinely spectacular photographs, and the light dusting of snow made everything beautiful. Their guests were all able to fit in the Round Hall; it had been designed for precisely such a purpose, and the chef they had flown in from the restaurant where they had their first date, outdid himself.

Later, there was dancing in a larger room attached to the Hall, and as Sansa swayed in Stannis’s arms, she knew this had been another perfect day. It seemed like her husband, had a way of just making them happen.

When they got to their room, someone, (_Cressen_) had scattered rose petals on their bed and left a bottle of champagne. Stannis popped the cork and poured two glasses and Sansa took a small sip and then put the glass aside. He frowned and wondered if she was feeling alright. Then she gave him a bit of a nervous look. She had a small box, and she handed it to him. He frowned and opened it up and saw a pregnancy test sitting inside. His frowned deepened until he realized the two lines meant that….

“Sansa, are you pregnant?” He asked, wonder in his voice.

She bit her lip and nodded. “Remember when I got sick after we came back from Kings Landing?” Stannis nodded.

“Well, apparently the antibiotics and the pill don’t go hand in hand,” she said, nervously. “Ummm is this ok?"

“Ok? OK?” Stannis said, his voice rising. “Sansa, this is incredible. I can’t even…. You’re my wife, and you’re having our baby,” he said reverently and placed his hands on her stomach. He’d sunk to his knees in front of her. “God, I can’t even believe it. This is…. I’m speechless Sansa.” He looked up into her face and saw the radiant joy there. He rose up and cupped her face and kissed her deeply.

“You’re mine and so is this child,” he growled into her mouth, and she nodded.

“We’re having a baby, Stannis,” and she giggled, and it was the best sound he’d ever heard. He stripped her down, carefully peeling off the wedding gown, letting it pool at her feet. He kissed her everywhere until she was quivering in need and then laid her down on their bed and entered her.

“I love you so much,” he murmured to her, and she told him the same. Even though they had been together almost every night since that first official date, it felt different tonight; more profound and more meaningful. When they were both spent, Sansa cradled in his arms; he let his hand rest on her smooth stomach, wonderment still in his eyes.

“Sansa Baratheon, my wife,” he whispered in her ear, and he felt her hand settle over his.

“Stannis Baratheon, my husband. Father of my child,” Sansa said, and Stannis smiled. He could never have imagined this would be his life, and he was so grateful that Ned Stark had made that phone call, a few short months ago. She was everything he could have ever wanted, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them.


	20. Epilouge

Sansa was five months pregnant when she defended her doctoral thesis in front of a panel at Bronzegate University. She had been a wreck going into the meeting, even though she had been over her notes a million times and had both Stannis and Cressen ask her every conceivable question they possibly could. Her advisor, Dr. Dondarrion, was confident that her work would be accepted, and she would pass; he’d rarely seen such a well-composed paper. Even with all of this preparation, Sansa was a ball of nerves, and it didn’t help that Stannis was worried about her health. She had put an incredible amount of work into her book-length paper on the Last Storm Queen, and now, as they say, all the chips were on the table.

When she walked into the room, she realized immediately that her near-celebrity status of being married to Stannis Baratheon was not going to help her in this room. The committee was a public event, and she knew that Stannis and Cressen, along with Dr. Dondarrion were in the seats behind the panel, somewhere. She didn’t even try to find them, knowing that it would be more nerve-wracking to see them there, supporting her. She would be devastated if she failed today or her work was found lacking. When she glanced at the committee member’s faces, they were all cold and remote, and she steeled her spine. She knew her thesis inside and out. She’d worked her ass off for this, and she wouldn’t let them intimidate her.

What followed were hours of questions; some easy, some ridiculous and some very difficult. Sansa answered them all honestly and to the best of her ability, and there wasn’t a single question that she felt she ‘missed.’ When she was finally dismissed, she looked down at her mother’s watch on her wrist and realized that they had kept her for just over five hours. She walked out dazed, and Stannis was there, handing her a bottle of water and scowling back at the room. He knew that had been one of the longest thesis defences in a very long time.

Dr. Dondarrion approached her and said she had done exceedingly well, and that the committee would contact her within two weeks to let her know their decision. She would either be approved, approved pending revisions, approved pending a delay or rejected.

Stannis and Cressen took her out for a celebratory dinner, even though they had no idea if she had passed, but she was starving; the baby sapped her energy and had increased her appetite exponentially.

The next day they met with the OBGYN that Sansa was seeing. She’d had to make several trips to the town for her doctoral work, and it had just made sense to have a doctor here. Today was the day they would find out the gender of their baby. They had gone back and forth on this topic, but eventually, Sansa had decided she wanted to know. She was a planner by nature, and it would make it easier to prepare for the baby if she knew its gender.

She squeezed Stannis’s hand as to cool gel was applied to her ever-growing stomach. He husband loved to read to the baby, and Sansa would happily lay back and listen to his voice as he told their child all about the Queen in the North. Sansa had contributed nothing to his new book, but Stannis wasn’t worried. Now that she was done with her doctoral work, they had plenty of time to get her reacquainted with the source material.

“Are you sure?” the doctor asked them when she was ready, and they both nodded.

“Congratulations. You’re having a girl,” she said, and Sansa’s mouth dropped open. For some reason, she figured she was destined to have boys; both her namesake and her mother had boys first. But a daughter, that was beyond anything she had dreamed off. She looked to Stannis to see if he was disappointed, but all she could see was joy and excitement on his face.

“I hope she has your hair,” he whispered to her and cupped her face, kissing her deeply.

Of course, Sansa insisted they spend the rest of the day shopping and Stannis groaned when they came back to the hotel room, loaded down with what he was sure was every single possible outfit a baby girl could need for the first six months of her life. Sansa just laughed and told him to get used to it, and he was secretly thrilled. The idea of a daughter was delightful to him.

Two and a half weeks later, when she was in the library working, Sansa’s phone rang, and she saw the area code for Bronzegate on her phone. She shot Stannis a look, and he immediately came to her side. He settled in beside her and let his hand rest on her tummy as the person on the phone asked if this was Sansa Baratheon.

“Yes,” she choked out and then coughed and said stronger. “Yes, this is Sansa Baratheon.

There was a paused, and then another voice came on the line. “The official paperwork is in the mail, Dr. Baratheon, but I wanted to be the first to congratulate you on your approval of your submitted doctoral thesis.”

“Are you serious?” She whispered, and the Dean of the history department chuckled.

“Quiet, my dear. It was outstanding work,” he said. He waited a moment and then said, “If I may. I realize that you are pregnant, and I am unsure of your plans going forward in your career, but you would be a welcome addition to our staff, Dr. Baratheon. Please think about it.”

“Oh,” Sansa said and then frowned. “Thank you, but my home is quite far away,” she said, and the professor chuckled again.

“Of course. I thought we might be able to work something out, online perhaps. It would be quite a coup for us to have a professor that taught out of Storm’s End and one that is so dedicated to this region’s history. Anyways, something to think about,” the head of the department said and then hung up.

Sansa sat there stunned for a moment, and then a wide grin broke out on her face. “I’m a doctor!” She squealed and threw herself into Stannis’s arms. He laughed and hugged her as close as he could with her belly sticking out.

“Congratulations, my love,” he said to her

“It’s all because of you,” she said, tears in her eyes and he shook his head. He’d merely provided the venue; she had done all the hard work.

Of course, phone calls needed to be made; her father, her siblings, Jon in the North. Cressen, Davos and Mayra were overjoyed and threw an impromptu celebration for them that evening. Sansa laid in bed that night, wondering how everything had gone right in her life and realized it was all because of the incredible man she called her husband. She felt him reach down to stroke her, and she moaned, always wanting him. She whispered how much she loved him and their daughter and how this was perfection, and he readily agreed. Stannis was a smart man and knew that Sansa was a remarkable woman; intelligent, fiercely loyal, loving, kind and passionate. And she was all his. He still couldn’t believe his luck most days.

Four months later, after hours of labour and pushing, Sansa finally welcomed their daughter into the world. Stannis got his wish; she had a shock of bright red hair and the most brilliant blue eyes. They had agreed to name her Shireen Catelyn Baratheon, and both of her parents were instantly in love with her.

What followed for them were two more children, both boys. They named their first son after Stannis’s father, Steffon and their second Arlen, as a nod to their shared history with their namesakes. When they had their final child, another daughter only this one had a raft of dark hair; Sansa insisted that they name her Cassana after Stannis’s mother and he tearily agreed.

As Stannis had dreamed those many years ago, the Tower was filled with their children. It was wild and chaotic most days, but they made it work. And if Stannis thought that Christmas with one five-year-old all those years ago had been chaotic, it had been nothing when compared to Christmas at Storm’s End with four rambunctious children. Still, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

For a time, Sansa and Stannis co-wrote books together. Their first novel on the Queen in the North was a smash hit, and there had even been discussions about making it into a movie. They’d received a very nasty letter from Dr. Tarth, which Sansa promptly threw into the fire, but overall people were fascinated with this new side to the well-known story. Many historians had asked for access to both Storm’s End and Winterfell Manor, but they turned them all down. It was enough the people knew the truth about the Queen in the North and her loving consort; those that didn’t want to believe them never would.

It was when Cassana was turning four when Sansa decided to try her hand at teaching. Bronzegate was more than willing to allow her to be a remote professor, and she taught two courses to begin with. Of course, her near celebrity status, combined with her easy teaching style and the fact that she taught from a Castle, meant her course filled up the fastest of any professor in the department. There were a few times when Stannis forgot she was teaching and happened to wander through, and the students always got a chuckle when that happened. By and large, though, it worked for them.

Late one night, after they had just finished celebrating Cassy’s fifth birthday, Stannis held his wife in his arms and wondered at how this incredible life had become his. Sansa was every bit the wonderful mother he knew she would be; their children were inquisitive, and kind and Stannis couldn’t believe the joy he felt from becoming a father. Each child simply expanded his heart and he knew he had everything he’d ever wanted under this roof.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his wife’s mouth; she responded in kind as she always had. They were still the most compatible couple most had ever met, and everyone commented on it.

“I love you, Dr. Baratheon,” Stannis whispered in her ear and heard his wife giggle.

“I love you, Mr. Baratheon,” she whispered back.

Sansa was just about to reach down and see how much he wanted her, when they heard a small voice said, “I ate too much cake, Mama.” Cassy stood clutching her wolf stuffy and moaning and Sansa laughed at her husband’s groan.

“You wanted them, darling,” she said and left the bed to see if she was really sick or was simply looking to crawl into their bed. Sansa barely got her to the toilet in time to watch pink and purple vomit fill the bowl. A small glass of ginger ale appeared, and Sansa looked up gratefully to Stannis. She put a cool clothe on her daughter’s neck and rubbed her back. He was the best father in the world, in Sansa’s mind, willingly diving into all aspects of raising their children.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Daddy?” She asked, her blue eyes big and wide, and Stannis nodded. He’d never been able to deny her anything and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Come on Princess,” he said, lifting her gently into his arms, bringing her back to their bed. She snuggled in deep and was almost instantly asleep once her head hit the pillow. Sansa had followed with a large bowl, just in case, and when they were both back in bed, their hands met on their daughter’s back.

“I still love you, Dr. Baratheon,” Stannis said and winked at her. Sansa laughed.

“And I still love you, Mr. Baratheon.”

They both knew they had hit the jackpot by finding each other, and they thanked whatever magic existed that they had come into each other’s lives as the perfect time. From time to time, Sansa whimsically wondered if their past namesakes had anything to do with this incredible life she had been given, but she knew that to be silly and childish. Still, it was somewhat comforting to think that they weren’t the first Stannis and Sansa to love one another, and even though their lives had been easier than their namesakes, Sansa knew that her Stannis loved her just as much if not more than the one in the distant past. There were times she when she wondered if there was another woman as lucky as her in all of Westeros, and then, she’d catch his eye and no that there wasn’t. She lived in a castle, married her prince, had a brilliant career and four wonderful children. Her life was a modern-day fairy-tale and she wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
